The Prophecy
by VikingSong
Summary: Uther learns Arthur is the Once-and-Future-King of prophecy and declares him a traitor, forcing him to flee with Merlin. The catch? Arthur has no idea who Emrys is and no desire to fulfill the prophecy. Reveal!fic. T for action sequences/some deaths; no slash, no smut, no language. Cover art by AlexandarCho on deviantART (used with permission). Updated several times a week! :)
1. Chapter 1: The Witchfinder

**Rating/Warnings: T for action sequences; no slash, no smut, no language.**

**Summary: ****Uther hears that Arthur is the Once-and-Future-King of prophecy, destined to join Emrys in returning magic to Camelot. Uther declares Arthur a traitor, forcing him to flee Camelot with Merlin. The catch? Arthur has no idea who Emrys is, let alone any desire to fulfill the prophecy. Merlin is pretty sure this destiny business just got a whole lot more complicated. AU starting from 2x07. Eventual reveal!fic; Arwen & Mergana.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anyone or anything plot-wise that you might recognize within this entire fic. I write it purely for fun and to get the plot bunny to leave me in peace!**

**Cover art by the incredibly talented AlexandarCho, used with permission. You can check out the original image in her gallery on DeviantArt (just take out the spaces):**

** alexandarcho. deviantart art/ So-you-wanna-play-with-magic- 440 242 462**

**A/N: Welcome! Glad you've decided to give this a read! :) This fic is to satisfy a plot bunny that's distracting me from plugging away at my Nanowrimo-novel-still-under-construction…anyway, I'd love to hear feedback not just on this story but on my writing style (and especially dialogue), so that I can apply that to my other writings-in-process.**

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Chapter 1: The Witchfinder

"Can you smell it?" Aredian growled as he strode the length of the great hall and approached the king.

"Can you smell it?" He shouted, letting the words echo off the high ceilings and stone walls of the throne room.

Merlin, standing to the side of Arthur's throne, flinched slightly at the venom dripping in the man's voice. Gaius had warned him about Aredian. The man had been in the room for less than five minutes and already Merlin could see Gaius' warnings had not been exaggerated.

"Smell what?" Uther asked in concern as he rose from his throne to greet the witchfinder he had summoned.

"The stench of sorcery. Even now," Aredian surveyed the gathered courtiers with piercing, cold eyes, "it pervades your kingdom—even corrupting those closest to you."

"What do you mean?" asked Uther, his voice growing hard.

"I was already on my way here when I received your summons. I have come to root out the traitor and expose the sorcery so close to your throne."

Merlin swallowed thickly, glancing at Morgana out of the corner of his eye. She had visibly paled at that statement. _We both think he's talking about us…and maybe he is._

"Then you must begin your investigations immediately. My men are at your service for whatever assistance you may require."

"My investigations are already complete," Aredian replied with chilling smile. He raised his voice again for the benefit of the assembled crowd. "All that remains is to call the guilty party to account."

"Then name the sorcerer!" Uther demanded.

"Oh, I do not have just one name." The evil smile widened. "I shall name both the sorcerer and his accomplice."

The room fell completely silent. Confident he had everyone's undivided attention, Aredian announced smugly, "The sorcerer who threatens everything you've built is called Emrys…and his accomplice is Arthur Pendragon!"

**A/N: All the chapters will probably be relatively concise, maybe 300-500 words, but if there's enough interest in this story, I'll update it frequently to compensate! :) See that review button below? It's calling your name…**


	2. Chapter 2: The Prophecy

**Art credit: Cover art by the incredibly talented AlexandarCho, used with permission. You can check out the original image in her gallery on DeviantArt (just take out the spaces):**

** alexandarcho. deviantart art/ So-you-wanna-play-with-magic- 440 242 462**

Chapter 2: The Prophecy

Merlin froze. _Did he say what I think he said?_ He glanced across the room to Gaius, looking for confirmation. His mentor's sky-high eyebrows confirmed it.

Laughter broke his train of thought. Arthur, still reclining on his throne on his father's right, had collapsed into a fit of almost girlish giggling. "That was a good one, Aredian. You had us all going there for a moment."

"I do not jest, your highness," Aredian replied severely, making the title sound more like an epithet than a mark of respect.

"On what grounds do you make such accusations against my son?" Uther demanded, stepping toe to toe with Aredian and drawing himself up to his full height. "You speak treason to make such an accusation."

"It is only treason if the accusation proves false," Aredian said smoothly, as he turned to address the crowd again. Arthur instantly quit laughing.

"The grounds on which I base this accusation are clear and proven; methods of detection honed over a lifetime of dedication to the eradication of magic in all its vile forms."

Merlin kept his eyes on Arthur, even as his mind raced. _How much does Aredian know? Is this it? Is this how everyone finds out about me?_ Arthur stared at Aredian, utterly confused.

Aredian continued, "The Old Religion, among its many depraved practices, had a fascination with prophecies. And they always came true."

Merlin thought Morgana grew even paler, if that were possible.

"I have learned," Aredian continued, "that such a prophecy links Prince Arthur to Emrys, the most fearsome sorcerer to walk the earth, and my investigations confirm this prophecy is already set in motion. They intend, together, to restore sorcery to your kingdom, destroying everything you have built."

Merlin idly thought that, under more favorable circumstances, hearing himself described so grandiosely would do serious damage to his humility, but unfortunately he had more important things to worry about right now.

In the silence that followed Aredian's declaration, a pallid Arthur stood and faced his father, whose florid, furious complexion formed a stark contrast to his son's.

"Father, surely you don't believe this…this nonsense?"

There was a long pause, as Uther stared into the eyes of his only son. It was as if time had frozen. At last, Uther broke the silence.

"Take him to the dungeons."


	3. Chapter 3: Reactions

**Disclaimers/Credits:**

**I don't own Merlin…the BBC owns all the cool stuff :/**

**The incredibly talented AlexandarCho over on DeviantArt gave me permission to use her art as the cover image for this fic. Woohoo! You can check out the original image (take out the spaces):**

** alexandarcho. deviantart art / So-you-wanna-play-with-magic- 440 242 462**

Chapter 3: Reactions

The door to Gaius' chambers had barely latched behind them before the questions began.

"Merlin! How did Aredian find out? And more to the point, how and when did Arthur?"

"They didn't-they don't!" Merlin sputtered, throwing his hands up defensively.

"Merlin, don't lie to me...you're already in enough trouble without adding to it."

"I swear, Arthur doesn't know! As to what Aredian knows," Merlin's shoulders slumped, "...I honestly have no idea."

There was a long pause as Gaius eyed him from beneath his skeptical eyebrows. At last, he placed a hand on Merlin's shoulder.

"I believe you, my boy."

Merlin smiled and straightened.

"So what are we going to do?"

"Well, there's at least one thing to be grateful for. Aredian doesn't know you're Emrys or you'd already be in the dungeons, too."

"But I still have to get Arthur out before Uther does anything worse to him."

"I will speak to the king first; perhaps I can persuade him to reconsider. The last time Arthur ended up in the dungeons, you recall, Uther eventually calmed down and let him out again."

Merlin nodded. He didn't technically remember that instance involving the Mortaeus flower, since he'd been unconscious for most of it, but he knew what Gaius meant. Uther had been just as furious, but had eventually seen fit to release Arthur, none the worse for wear.

Gaius headed out of the room to find the king. Merlin paced the physician's room impatiently for a few minutes after he left before finally settling down in his own room with his spellbook. Arthur wasn't likely to be released for several hours at best, given how enraged Uther had been, so there was no hurry to finish his chores for the prat. He cracked a wry smile. _Well, this is a new way to get an afternoon off_.


	4. Chapter 4: Evidence

**A/N: Wow, I'm really grateful and pleased about the response to the first three chapters! It was more than I was hoping for. :) To say thanks, I'm updating already! **

**Disclaimers/Credits:**

**I don't own Merlin…the BBC owns all the cool stuff :/**

**The incredibly talented AlexandarCho over on DeviantArt gave me permission to use her art as the cover image for this fic. Woohoo! You can check out the original image (take out the spaces):**

** alexandarcho. deviantart art / So-you-wanna-play-with-magic- 440 242 462**

_**Shell22**_** raised a good point about wanting more evidence before Uther sentences Arthur…you're right, it was a bit hasty, even for Uther. My thought was that he's a bit of an arrest-first-ask-questions-later kind of king, especially where sorcery is concerned. So here's a chapter to address your concerns. :)**

Chapter 4: Evidence

It was late afternoon when the court reconvened in the great hall. Gaius had persuaded the king to calm down enough to ask for more evidence before passing sentence. Merlin stood beside Gaius, trying to mask his concern as Aredian and another burly man-_Halig, a bounty hunter, I think they said_-shoved three cuffed and cowering Druids to their knees before Uther's throne. Uther stood alone in front of the three thrones, his son still locked in the dungeons and his ward retired to her chambers for the rest of the day, citing exhaustion from her nightmares.

"Speak!" Aredian commanded the first Druid as Halig pulled him to his feet-a boy no more that thirteen or fourteen, with shaggy brown hair, terrified gray eyes, and a deep blue Druid mark on his left wrist. The boy, trembling, gazed up at Uther and mumbled something.

"Louder! Let the halls ring with the prince's shame," Aredian snarled.

"I...I saw the prince in the forest last week. It was...near the Valley of the Fallen Kings...He and Emrys were eating by a campfire."

Aredian smiled as Halig shoved the boy to the ground again. Merlin groaned to himself. The Druid spoke the truth. _We camped there last week during a hunting trip._

Halig moved to the next prisoner-witness, an old woman with stringy gray hair, clear eyes, and a faded Druid mark on her weathered right cheek.

"And what did you see?" Aredian demanded.

The woman's voice didn't waver, even though her body did as she was pulled to her feet.

"I saw Emrys save the prince from a bandit attack two months prior, in the Darkling Woods. With _magic_." She bore a defiant expression, not cowed by the king before her.

Halig struck her across her Druid-marked cheek for her insolent tone and she collapsed to the stone floor.

Gaius shot Merlin a sideways questioning glance. Merlin clenched his jaw and nodded almost imperceptibly. _Again, true. How was I to know a Druid was nearby? I can't always feel their magic if it's weak_, Merlin thought in frustration. This situation was rapidly going from bad to worse.

"Last but not least," Aredian said as he hauled the final witness to her feet, "Tell them what you know, my dear." His voice dripped with disdain.

Merlin stared, mesmerized, as the third prisoner raised her eyes slowly to look at the king. The young woman's eyes were a rich chocolate brown, like deep wells into her soul. Long brown waves framed her delicate features. _She's beautiful._ Her voice was gentle but brave. _Focus, Merlin. You need to sort out this mess._

"Your highness, Emrys and the prince rode along the border with Essetir a fortnight ago. They talked and laughed together as friends."

Uther leapt to his feet. "I have heard enough!" He shouted.

"My lord," Gaius interrupted sagely, "These stories are difficult to believe. Might it be that Arthur has been placed under some manner of enchantment?"

Uther, as though he hadn't considered that option, turned to Aredian. "Is that possible?"

"Well, it's certainly possible, though unlikely, given the prophecy. Either way I would recommend the same course of action."

"Which is?" Uther asked impatiently. "As you are an expert, I will follow your counsel in this matter, whatever it may be."

**A/N: Let me know what you think! I love feedback :)**


	5. Chapter 5: A Plan of Sorts, Part 1

**A/N: Second update today :) Enjoy!**

Chapter 5: A Plan of Sorts, Part 1

Merlin knocked softly but firmly on the door to Morgana's chambers that evening. She opened the door a crack, peering out cautiously.

"Merlin!" A smile erased the worried expression on her face as she practically dragged him inside and shut the door firmly behind him. Though she was trying to look composed now, Merlin could tell she was terrified. Her voice betrayed her fear as she asked, "What news of Arthur? Has Uther seen sense?"

"Milady, that's what I came to talk to you about," Merlin began, remembering his manners.

Morgana clearly understood from his tone that he didn't bring good news. She sighed and dropped into a chair by the unlit hearth.

"What has Uther done now?"

"He's, um,...sentenced Arthur to death."

"He WHAT?!"

"...along with all three Druid witnesses."

Merlin braced himself for the venting he could tell was coming. Morgana leapt to her feet and waved her arms dramatically as she spoke.

"Uther can be so unfair! Arthur doesn't know anything about the prophecy or this Emrys. I mean, I have _magic_-" she hissed the forbidden word, "-and I didn't know about either until today, so why would Arthur? I mean..."

Merlin waited patiently for her to finish. He'd learned by now that anyone interrupting her during a rant did so at their own peril. He wasn't in the mood to be on the receiving end of her verbal wrath at the moment. When the outpouring slowed, he cautiously said, "Morgana, Aredian's convinced him that Arthur is in league with this Emrys, either willfully or under enchantment. He claims the only way to prove whether Arthur is guilty or enchanted is to prepare to execute him."

Morgana guffawed, but Merlin plowed ahead before she could resume her rant.

"Aredian claims if Arthur's innocent, then being led to the executioner's block will break such an enchantment, but if he's truly guilty, he will die."

"Then we have to stop them."

"Gaius, Gwen, and I have a plan of sorts. Gaius is with Arthur now, filling him in. Will you help us?"

"You know I will. I will do anything." Morgana grabbed one of Merlin's hands and squeezed it in a gesture of solidarity. _Too bad she only does this when there's a crisis_, Merlin thought. _Stop it, Merlin. Focus on the plan!_

"Good, because we're going to break Arthur and the Druids out of the dungeons tonight."

**A/N: Leave a comment, maybe? :)**


	6. Chapter 6: A Plan of Sorts, Part 2

**A/N: Thank you all for the kind and constructive reviews! :) **

**Disclaimers/Credits:**

**I don't own Merlin…the BBC didn't want to share :/**

**The incredibly talented AlexandarCho over on DeviantArt gave me permission to use her art as the cover image for this fic. Woohoo! You can check out the original image (take out the spaces):**

** alexandarcho. deviantart art / So-you-wanna-play-with-magic- 440 242 462**

**I responded in more detail in a PM to **_**shell22**_**'s questions about why no one seemed to be asking more questions about Emrys' identity, but here's the short version—there's more going on between the lines (and in my head) that will be explained in this and the next few chapters. Basically, no one's expecting Emrys to have a mild-mannered-alter-ego in Camelot, so they think they're supposed to be hunting a mysterious sorcerer in the wilds of Camelot's countryside. Hopefully the rest will become clear over the next few chapters. :) Thank you, **_**shell22**_**, for asking good questions and pushing me to deal with plot holes! :D**

**On with the fic!**

Chapter 6: A Plan of Sorts, Part 2

Arthur wasn't sure just how many hours had passed since he'd been dragged-protesting his innocence all the way-from the great hall to the dungeons. He'd watched the sun creep across the sky and sink behind the horizon without hearing a word about his fate.

Hearing footsteps headed toward his cell, he scrambled off the straw-covered floor to meet his first visitor. Gaius rounded the corner, escorted by one of the guards.

"...I just need to examine the prisoner. It will take a while, so there's no point in you standing here, especially if the prince _is_ actually enchanted..."

The guard opened his mouth to protest but quickly shut it again when Gaius added, "...since some such enchantments can be spread by mere proximity, you know."

The guard hastily returned to his regular post, leaving the physician alone with the prince.

"What do you mean, _contagious enchantments_?" Arthur demanded. "And I'm not enchanted-I'm falsely accused!"

"Sire, I know that, and you know that, but with all due respect, your guards don't know the first thing about enchantments, a fact that works in our favor in this case. I needed to speak to you alone."

Arthur nodded. _When I get out of here, I really need to review the magical security protocols…_

"Sire, has anyone come to relay Uther's sentence?"

"No, you're the only person who's been to see me all day. The guards wouldn't allow anyone in and even refuse to speak to me. The nerve..." He muttered.

"I'm afraid it's bad news," Gaius said. "I will tell you, but you must promise to remain calm. We don't want that guard to come back too soon."

"Tell me, Gaius."

"Druids testified, under coercion, that they had seen you in the company of Emrys on numerous occasions over the past few months-all at times when no knights or nobles could vouch otherwise for you."

"That's absurd," groaned Arthur. "I've never even heard of Emrys before today!"

"All the same, sire, your father believes the stories to be true. The king's heightened security in the city and dispatched patrols to this Emrys' last known location. He's also ordered the Druid witnesses to be interrogated, but I doubt he'll get any more information from them."

Arthur raised a perplexed eyebrow. Gaius explained, "The Druids revere Emrys as their prophesied savior. They will not give him up lightly."

"I see," Arthur said with a sigh. "And what has my father decided about me?"

"Aredian has convinced him that you are either guilty or enchanted. Sire, you've been sentenced to die at dawn."

Instead of yelling or ranting, Arthur stood perfectly still, digesting the news. Gaius waited quietly. Finally, Arthur spoke.

"I assume you came here with some kind of plan, given your desire to avoid the guards' eavesdropping?" Arthur smiled mischievously.

"As a matter of fact, sire, I did. Well, it really is Merlin's plan, but..."

Arthur interrupted with a groan. "_Mer_lin's plan? I'm doomed."

Gaius chuckled. "Perhaps not, sire. We will help you escape tonight and leave Camelot until your father calms down and we can prove your innocence."

"Leave Camelot? Gaius, I won't run away from my own kingdom."

"If you don't, Arthur," Gaius said in a paternal tone, "you'll lose your head at dawn and no one will be able to help you."

_Oh. Fair point._

"Fine, what do I need to do?"

**A/N: Thanks for reading! If you like it, or if you don't, or if you have questions you want to see answered in subsequent updates, please leave a review! :) Thanks!**


	7. Chapter 7: Flee

**A/N: Thanks, faithful readers, for the reviews! :D I've responded individually (save for the Guest review-I can't PM you), but here's a quick summary of my answers:**

**To **_**bookybookworm**_** (who by the way is AWESOME for reviewing practically every chapter I've posted—you are such an encouragement!), I see where you're coming from about the guards and Arthur. I was thinking that the guards don't want to "catch" an enchantment or be seen "fraternizing" with any traitor when Uther's in one of his "moods."**

**To **_**Arkana87**_** (thank you for reviewing!), I'm using this fic to practice skills that are giving me trouble in the longer novel I'm working on. So my goals for this are to a) write every day, b) be concise, even at the expense of extra description, and c) write dialogue that fits each speaker. I'm aiming for chapters that are only 300-850ish words long.**

**To the guest reviewer (thank you for leaving a comment!), you'll have to wait and see!**

**Disclaimers/Credits:**

**I don't own Merlin…the BBC didn't want to share :/**

**The incredibly talented AlexandarCho over on DeviantArt gave me permission to use her art as the cover image for this fic. Woohoo! You can check out the original image (take out the spaces):**

** alexandarcho. deviantart art / So-you-wanna-play-with-magic- 440 242 462**

Chapter 7: Flee

The bell tower tolled midnight as Merlin slipped through the darkened corridors. He knew every uneven flagstone, every sharp turn from regularly sneaking around saving Camelot at night. He could go wherever he pleased in complete darkness without a sound. _And Arthurs says I'm clumsy-Ha!_ He peered over the iron railing of the dungeon staircase at the guards below. They were passed out on the rough-hewn table, surrounded by upended flagons and a pitcher of sleeping potion-laced ale. Merlin smiled as he hurried down the stairs. _Gwen was right-the guards never turn down free ale_.

Reaching the bottom, he lifted a torch from a wall sconce and tiptoed past the unconscious men. He wasn't taking any risks. _Well, no unnecessary risks, that is_.

He went first to the Druids' cell. Three startled pairs of eyes jerked awake, staring at him as he unlocked their cell door with a murmured "_Tospringe!_"

The boy whispered, "Emrys, why are you here?"

"I'm not letting you die on my account. Now hurry." Merlin gestured for them to follow. "We're getting Arthur, then heading to the stables-horses and supplies are waiting."

They made their way along the row of cells to the farthest, darkest corner. Merlin was about to lift his hand to unlock the cell door when he felt a gentle hand on his forearm. He looked up to meet the young woman's gaze.

_Let me_, she spoke into his mind. "_Tospringe_."

_Thank you_, he replied.

"Wake up, prat!" He hissed aloud into the darkened cell.

"I've been waiting for you, idiot. What took you so long?" The prince replied, but there was no real anger in his words, until he noticed the three additional figures. "What are _they_ doing here?"

"Why can you never just say, 'thanks'?" Merlin quipped with a trademark grin.

"Never mind, let's go before the guards wake up. You did manage to see to that, right?" Arthur muttered as he pushed past Merlin out of the cell toward the sleeping guards' post. "Once we're out of here, you have some explaining to do."

Merlin grabbed his arm. "Not that way."

Arthur shot him a quizzical expression in the torchlight.

"Secret passage, this way. Comes out near the stables."

"And how do you know about it?"

"Servants know everything."

Arthur sighed in mock frustration but followed Merlin. Keeping close, the younger Druids supported the elderly woman.

After climbing into the passage concealed behind a shield, Merlin had to snuff out the torch and navigate with his minds' eye. The passage was damp and slimy, hung with decades of cobwebs. They crawled for several minutes before it enlarged so they could walk again.

Fifteen minutes later, they emerged into the woods just behind the stables, chilled, damp, and covered in sticky cobwebs. Gwen and Morgana stood waiting in the shadows, wrapped in dark-colored cloaks and holding the reins of five sturdy horses, each bearing saddlebags of provisions.

Merlin hurried up to them, trying to brush the cobwebs out of his hair as he did so. Morgana and Gwen chuckled at the sight.

"I knew the passage hadn't been used in a while, but I didn't think it would be that bad!" Gwen grinned sheepishly at Merlin and Arthur.

The Druids hung back, unsure of their place in the present company. Morgana held out to them the reins of the three horses she'd been holding.

"Please, take them." Seeing their hesitation, she added, "Not everyone in Camelot agrees with Uther's sentences."

Smiling gratefully, the young Druid woman accepted the reins. The boy and the elderly woman followed her example as the lady and the handmaid handed out dark cloaks. When Gwen reached Merlin, he pulled her into a quick hug.

"Thank you for everything, Gwen."

"You're welcome. There's two days' worth of provisions as well as bedrolls. Now, you remember the directions I gave you to Elyan's village?"

"Of course," Merlin flashed his most winning smile and Gwen laughed.

He turned to Morgana, who had just finished saying goodbye to Arthur. He caught her wiping away a stray tear as she turned away from the man who was like a brother to her.

"Morgana," Merlin said softly.

She looked up at him, embarrassed. He reached out and squeezed her hand, much as she had earlier.

"It's okay. I'll take care of him."

Arthur interrupted indignantly, "I don't need taking care of, least of all by my idiotic manservant!"

Morgana and Merlin rolled their eyes in unison. _That's better,_ Merlin thought, _No more tears_. Releasing Morgana's hand, he turned to his horse, double-checked the cinch on the saddle, then swung onto the bay gelding's back. "We need to go before the guards realize we're gone."

"Merlin, aren't you forgetting something?"

"No, don't think so, why?" Merlin replied sarcastically.

"Because _I'm_ the one who gives the orders."

Merlin rolled his eyes again as Arthur commanded, "Let's move out."

The five riders disappeared into the night in a flurry of hoofbeats, leaving behind everything three of them feared and everything two held most dear.

**A/N: What'd you think? Leave a review and let me know! ;)**


	8. Chapter 8: Words and Waterskins

**A/N: Wow, so many new reviews! I love you all. Seriously. I'll send you each an individual PM'd response tomorrow (it's way late when I'm posting this, so I'm really hoping I didn't miss any obvious typos!), but I want to thank everyone who commented. I'm afraid, though, that y'all have to wait one more day for an actual convo with our three mystery Druids. ;)**

**Disclaimers/Credits:**

**I don't own Merlin…the BBC is hogging all the fun :/**

**The incredibly talented AlexandarCho over on DeviantArt gave me permission to use her art as the cover image for this fic. Woohoo! You can check out the original image (take out the spaces):**

** alexandarcho. deviantart art / So-you-wanna-play-with-magic- 440 242 462**

Chapter 8: Words and Waterskins

With Arthur leading the way, the five riders traveled for hours in silence. Though it was too dark to see his expression, Merlin could tell from his posture that the prince was not in an agreeable mood. Periodically one of the Druids would project a question to his mind, but Merlin insisted they wait for Arthur to break the silence. They covered many leagues-pastureland giving way to dense forest-not stopping for food or rest until dawn began to color the eastern sky pink. Apparently satisfied they had put enough distance between them and Camelot, Arthur announced, "We will stop at the next clearing by that stream. We ride again in one hour."

The company dismounted gratefully upon reaching the clearing. The stream itself was only as wide as a horse-cart, but over time it had cut a swath through the forest floor, resulting in a steep, gritty embankment that sloped sharply from the level ground to the water's edge, deep enough to conceal a man on horseback. Merlin scrambled down the embankment to refill all five waterskins as the young Druids assisted the older Druid into a comfortable position on the ground and laid out a cold breakfast from the saddlebags. Arthur, after inspecting the horses and the provisions, joined Merlin by the water's edge. He stood there broodingly, kicking stray pebbles into the water and watching Merlin crouch down to fill the skins one by one. Merlin paused, the second half-filled waterskin in his hand, and craned his neck to meet Arthur's gaze.

"Arthur, just say it," he said tiredly.

Arthur just raised a stormy eyebrow at him. _Gaius would be proud_, Merlin thought sarcastically.

"Don't just stand there thinking. You might hurt yourself," Merlin continued as he resumed filling the waterskins.

"And what would you know about thinking, _Mer_lin?"

Merlin ignored his taunt. "You clearly have something to say, so just say it."

"Merlin?"

"Yes, sire?"

"Shut up."

"Shutting up, sire."

Arthur clearly wasn't in the mood to joke around. Another long pause followed. This time Arthur spoke first. "Merlin, I'm only going to ask once, so think _very_ carefully about your answer. Why did you release the Druids and bring them with us? They're sorcerers who lied to my father," Arthur said, vindictively kicking another rock into the water. "Not to mention, their testimony nearly got me killed."

Merlin swallowed slowly, the fourth waterskin hanging forgotten from his hands as he rocked back on his heels to meet Arthur's stern gaze.

"Because, like you, they didn't deserve to die."

"But they have magic."

"Not all Druids can use magic."

"How would you know, _Mer_lin?"

Merlin fumed, "How do you know these three do? Have you actually talked to them? You've only seen one do anything magical, and you owe her your current freedom for it!"

Arthur's glare softened slightly at that final sentence.

Merlin continued hotly, "Did you know that Aredian and a bounty hunter dragged them into the throne room in chains and ordered them to say those things? Did it occur to you that perhaps they didn't want to do it?"

Arthur's face fell. "No, Merlin, I didn't." He sighed and sat down on the bank beside Merlin. "The dungeons don't have the greatest view of the throne room."

Merlin cracked a half smile as he filled the final waterskin.

"Arthur," he began, "I know you don't trust them, but they're Aredian's victims as much as you are. After what you did for the Druid boy Mordred, I believed you wouldn't have stood by and let them be unjustly executed if you had known."

After a moment, Arthur gripped Merlin's shoulder in a silent gesture of agreement, then stood and began to climb up the bank, beckoning Merlin to follow. "I think it's time we introduce ourselves to our traveling companions."

**A/N: Let me know what you think!**


	9. Chapter 9: Fork in the Road

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who's reviewed, followed, and favorited since my last update! I will reply to all the reviews individually as soon as I can. :) **

**I apologize for not posting this chapter last night as planned. In my defense, it was a busy day, and I honestly did try to write this chapter at the end of the day, but I literally fell asleep at my computer about 300 words into this chapter around 1AM. With my contacts in. I was not a happy camper when I woke up in the middle of the night like that, haha. So hopefully I'll be able to post this chapter this afternoon AND another short chapter tonight to make up for it. :)**

Chapter 9: Fork in the Road

Merlin and Arthur sat down in the clearing around the cold breakfast the Druids had laid out on a large handkerchief. Merlin returned the refilled waterskins to their owners as Arthur, in a mixture of polite formality and sarcasm, glanced around the circle and said, "I'm afraid in all the excitement, we have not been properly introduced. _Mer_lin, would you be so kind as to introduce your _friends_?"

Merlin swallowed awkwardly as he handed Arthur some bread and the Druid boy passed out hunks of cheese. He hadn't had a chance to make conversation with the Druids either, save for fielding their mind-questions with unsatisfactory answers. He realized he didn't even know their names, and what little he did know he couldn't tell Arthur without giving away his own secret. He turned to the nearest Druid-the elderly woman-and said, "Prince Arthur, this is, um…"

"Rhiannon, sire," the woman said with a respectful nod to Arthur.

She gestured to the boy next to her, "And this is my grandson, Drustan."

Drustan inclined his head respectfully as well, then resumed devouring his bread like it was the first meal he'd had in ages. _It probably is_, Merlin thought as he realized with a start how thin the boy was-how thin all the Druids were.

Lastly, the two men turned their attention to the quiet young woman. "And I'm Freya," she said with a gentle lilt.

"And I'm Merlin-the prince's servant," Merlin interjected glibly. He gave a charmingly self-abasing wave as he spoke.

Arthur cuffed him lightly on the back of the head.

"What was that for?" Merlin demanded petulantly.

"For interrupting and for flirting," Arthur glared good-naturedly at Merlin.

"I didn't interrupt! You hadn't started talking yet!"

"But you could tell I was about to, which is basically the same thing. And you didn't deny the flirting."

Freya blushed.

"Clotpole," Merlin muttered. He sighed dramatically and resumed eating as Arthur turned his attention back to the Druids.

"Pleasure to be traveling with you," Arthur said with a courteous smile. "Now I've got a few questions for you."

The three Druids tensed. _It's okay-he won't hurt you. He wants to understand_, Merlin projected into their minds, seeing them relax slightly.

Arthur continued, "I know that you each gave testimony against me to the king. I'd like to know why."

There was a pause as Merlin listened to the three confer mentally about who should explain. Freya graciously volunteered. She replied, "Sire, we didn't want to testify. Halig and Aredian forced us to."

Drustan and Rhiannon nodded in agreement. Freya continued, "Halig is a bounty hunter. Aredian needed more information about the prophecy and Emrys." She broke eye contact with Arthur and glanced at Merlin. "The king has a price on the head of every Druid, so Aredian hired Halig to hunt Druids for him to...interrogate."

Freya trailed off, a haunted expression in her eyes as she looked away.

Merlin interjected gently, "What happened, Freya?"

"He...tortured us."

Arthur cursed and Merlin felt his magic boiling inside of him. He could tell the Druids hadn't been treated well by their captors, but he hadn't realized the extent of the harm they'd suffered. _I could kill Aredian and Halig for this_, he thought.

Freya swallowed thickly. "Halig had six of us to begin with. The other three...didn't make it."

Rhiannon spoke up, "He hoped we'd tell him who Emrys is, but all of us would rather die." She laughed bitterly. "He stopped torturing us when he realized he was running out of witnesses."

Merlin felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He didn't deserve such loyalty. _Thank you_, he projected.

Arthur mused, "So you made up just enough of what he wanted to hear to protect your own lives but not give anything about this Emrys away...I can't say I appreciate it, given my present situation, but I suppose I do understand."

_I'm sorry, but please let him think that!_ Merlin projected urgently. Freya graciously said, "I'm afraid so, my lord."

Rhiannon added, "We didn't know what he planned to do with the false information, and by then, it was too late."

"Well, what's done is done," Arthur said as he grabbed another piece of bread from the blanket. "Now, I suppose if you wouldn't tell Aredian who Emrys is, you certainly won't tell me?"

"That's correct, my lord," Rhiannon replied without hesitation.

"I don't like it, but I certainly won't stoop to Aredian's level, so I'm going to drop the subject altogether. The next question is: what do you plan to do now? Do you wish to continue with us or to go your separate ways?"

Drustan piped up, the first thing he'd said aloud to Arthur, "Sire, Grandmother is unwell-she needs to been seen to by a healer."

Rhiannon explained, "Drustan and I would like to rejoin a Druid camp not far from here. We can continue on foot, my lord."

"No, you must take the horses. We have no use for them and, as Drustan said, you are unwell."

"Thank you, sire," Drustan chimed in.

"In return, I trust I have your silence about my plans and whereabouts?" Arthur asked.

"You have our silence even as Emrys does, my lord," Rhiannon vowed.

Arthur, satisfied, turned to Freya. "What about you, Freya? Will you go with them?"

"My lord, I have no family to return to. In gratitude for my freedom, I would be honored to accompany you and be of service if I can."

Merlin couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face at her words. _Maybe this journey won't be so bad._

"Very well." Arthur brushed the crumbs off his hands and stood up. "We need to head out again. If Merlin's directions are correct, we still have a day and a half journey to reach Elyan's village. We should try to reach the base of the White Mountains by nightfall and make camp there."

They packed up quickly. Before they took their leave, Rhiannon surprised them all by addressing Arthur, "Sire, you have shown that you are already fit to be a better king than your father. Our hopes go with you even as they go with Emrys." After bowing respectfully to Arthur physically and to Merlin mentally, Rhiannon and Drustan departed, riding parallel to the stream towards the well-hidden Druid camp. Arthur, Merlin, and Freya crossed the stream and continued towards the White Mountains and some long-overdue rest.

**A/N: I'd love to hear what you think! :)**


	10. Chapter 10: Air Mail

**A/N: I promised y'all a second post yesterday, but that didn't happen—I'm sorry! So here's a quick ch 10—I'll write and post ch 11 tomorrow, for real. But first, there were several new reviews that wouldn't allow me to respond with a PM:**

_**Midnightdove**_**, **_**Guest Review #1**_**, **_**Ife**_**, and **_**A Fellow Reader**_**: Thank you to each of you for your encouragement! :) More adventures, coming right up!**

_**Guest Review #2**_** and **_**Wilko**_**: You both raised some interesting (overlapping) points. Yes, Arthur has-through no fault of his own-become a fugitive, but much like the end of season 4, that doesn't change Merlin's confidence in him or his desire to serve him and fulfill their destiny. Since these Druids revere Emrys, if he follows Arthur, so will they. I hope you'll keep reading, even if that's not quite the response you were hoping for! Arthur **_**will**_** appreciate Merlin's sacrifices…eventually. ;)**

**Ok, now on with the fic!**

Chapter 10: Air Mail

The three riders stopped for lunch and a rest, as none of them had properly slept for over a day. They ate and slept in shifts, so that each got two hours of sleep and one hour of watch. Merlin, as usual, got the short stick by default; Arthur gave him the middle shift. Merlin tried to hurry through tending the horses so he could sleep for as much of the first hour as possible. As he slipped a feedbag over the second horse's head, he felt a gentle presence in his mind and turned to see Freya walking up behind him. _Let me help you_, she offered.

_No_, he replied, _You should be sleeping_.

_As should you_, she smiled. _So please let me help you, Emrys_.

_Only if you'll call me Merlin_, he countered.

Freya laughed-a pure, beautiful sound that lilted like her accent. He couldn't help but notice the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed.

_Of course, Merlin. It would be an honor._

Five minutes later, the horses were cared for and both Merlin and Freya were sound asleep on opposite sides of the clearing while Arthur sat in the middle, keeping watch. Merlin's dreams for that too-short hour revolved around deep brown eyes and a perfect laugh.

All too soon, Arthur shook him awake. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and stared blearily up at Arthur.

"Five more minutes?" he mumbled.

"No, idiot," Arthur replied pleasantly, yanking Merlin's makeshift cloak-blanket off of him. "Now."

Grumbling under his breath, Merlin scrambled upright and ran his fingers through his sleep-tousled hair instinctively, as if that would help him process consciousness more easily.

"You've got second watch, remember? I'm getting some sleep," Arthur said as he returned Merlin's cloak-blanket and trudged away to select a tree trunk to sleep against.

Merlin wrapped the cloak around himself again and sat down in the middle of the clearing. The woods were still quite dense, so though it was only an hour past midday, the forest floor was dim and speckled with a soft patchwork of sunlight and shadow. He waited several minutes until he was positive Arthur was asleep and no threats were lurking nearby. Freya hadn't stirred at all, even during the commotion of Arthur waking him, so he was confident they wouldn't see what he was about to do.

He got up and retrieved a scrap of parchment from his saddlebags. He found a sharp twig and, whispering "_Forbærnan_," set the very tip alight. Quickly snuffing it again with a flash of golden eyes, he used it as a charcoal pencil. He scribbled a message quickly. He didn't need to think about what he wanted to say-he had been drafting this message in his head all morning as they rode.

Satisfied with his message, he rolled up the scrap of parchment and, casting one last precautionary glance at Freya and Arthur, his eyes flashed gold as he whispered, "_Cume mec, __heoruswealwe lýtel_." A small falcon whooshed gracefully into the clearing after a few minutes, coming to rest on the forearm Merlin stretched out for it. His eyes flashed gold, gently securing the rolled parchment scrap to the bird's right leg. A few more whispered words, and the little merlin hawk took flight, zooming over the treetops towards Camelot.

**A/N: Check back tomorrow to find out the contents and recipient of that message! :) And if you liked this, leave a review, maybe? :D Oh, and the translations of the spells are roughly "to burn" and "come to me, little falcon."**


	11. Chapter 11: A Little Bird Told Me

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! I'm so encouraged :)**

Chapter 11: A Little Bird Told Me

The merlin hawk flew swiftly over the forest and meadows until it reached the citadel of Camelot as dusk painted the gleaming white stones purple and gold. Following the magical signature as Merlin had instructed, the bird sought out a window sill overlooking the main courtyard and perched gracefully, peering inside. A woman with black wavy tresses sat on the bed, draped in a dark green silk gown with her knees drawn up to her chest, reading a book in the waning daylight. The merlin tapped three times on the window and the woman looked up, startled. She relaxed when she saw it was just a bird but crossed quickly to the window when the merlin repeated the tapping pattern.

Morgana opened the window cautiously, allowing the bird to hop inside and perch on her dressing table. She quickly noticed the scrap of parchment bound to its leg. The merlin seemed to nod at her-_No, that's ridiculous; birds don't nod_-and allowed her to reach for the message. She stepped back, unrolled it, and read quickly, her eyes flying over the page.

_Lady Morgana,_

_Don't be alarmed; your secret is safe with me. I write to set your mind at rest: Prince Arthur and his company are safe and many leagues from Camelot. Don't worry; I'll take care of him. Two of the Druids have returned to their people, and one has chosen to remain with the prince and his servant._

_I have sent this message to you, as the physician, I am sure, is being watched too closely following his ward's sudden disappearance, and your maidservant has no magical signature, which the bird requires for tracing a recipient. Please convey this message to both of them. When you have read it, burn it in your fireplace. I wish no harm to come to you-and it surely would if this were found in your possession. The bird will wait if you wish to send a reply-the physician will know how._

_For the Love of Camelot,_

_Emrys_

Morgana shoved the note into the slit pocket of her gown and looked at the bird. "Wait, please," she whispered urgently as she gestured to the window sill. The merlin obligingly hopped outside to wait. She shut the window and hurried from the room. _Gaius will know what to do-he always does._

She reached Gaius' chambers without incident. Calming herself, she rapped firmly on the door.

"Come in," came the muffled voice of the elderly physician.

Morgana opened the door, and-seeing Gaius was alone-shut it quickly behind her.

"Can we speak here? Is it safe?"

"What do you mean, my lady?" Gaius' expression was guarded.

"I need to show you something...something important," Morgana fidgeted with her fingers nervously.

"Yes, it is safe," Gaius rose and offered her a seat. "Now, what is it, my dear?"

Morgana reached into her pocket and pulled out the crumpled note. Gaius took it and unrolled it, skimming quickly. He looked up sharply as he finished, as though trying to gauge her reaction.

"Do you know this Emrys?" he asked slowly.

"No, Gaius! So how does he know about me? Are we truly safe? What about Arthur?" Morgana felt her insides knotting with fear. She drew on all her courage-and just a little bit of curiosity-to keep herself from breaking down in tears.

"So you _know_ now," Gaius sighed as he sat down beside her.

"Yes...the Druids told me. I wasn't kidnapped; I went to them for help."

"I know-Merlin told me."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Morgana's residual anger suddenly flared, inadvertently causing all the candles in the room to burn higher for a moment. "I was lost and alone and you clearly could have helped me-even Emrys knows about _your_ magic!"

One angry tear slipped down her cheek as she looked away from the elderly man who had always cared for her. _Except for the one time I needed him most._ Gaius reached out and took her hands in his.

"Morgana," Gaius began softly, "I was wrong not to be honest with you. But I promise I will help you now."

Morgana turned back to face him, eyes full of new hope and gratitude.

"Do you know Emrys? Can he be trusted? Tell me the truth, Gaius," Morgana pleaded.

There was a long pause. Gaius took the note and tossed it in the fire. He spoke quietly as he watched it burn away.

"Yes...yes, I do. And I trust him with my life."

**A/N: Please let me know what you think! This chapter gave me a bit of trouble… You know how when you're happily writing along, minding your own business when suddenly—BAM!—a character says something you didn't really mean for them to say (it was just the logical thing for them to say under the circumstances but you hadn't planned for it or the aftermath) and suddenly you've got a whole new sub-plot on your hands? Well, that's what Morgana and Gaius did to me in the middle of this chapter…**


	12. Chapter 12: New Horizons

Chapter 12: New Horizons

"Freya," Merlin whispered, touching her shoulder gently.

"Hmm?" She replied, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She sat up suddenly, apparently remembering where she was. "Is it my turn for the watch?"

"Actually...no," Merlin admitted sheepishly. "I let you sleep." _How could I wake her when she looked so peaceful and, well, beautiful?_

He continued, "But I'm about to wake Arthur so I thought it'd be best if you were already up. We'll need to head out again soon."

He got up quietly and crossed the clearing to wake the prince.

"Let's have you, lazy daisy!" Merlin bellowed cheerfully right in Arthur's ear, then leapt with surprising grace just out of range as Arthur woke swinging and flailing for his sword. He froze, sword in mid-swing, when he saw Merlin trying-and failing-to contain his laughter.

"You're lucky there are no stocks in the middle of the forest, _Mer_lin," he grumbled as he gathered up his equipment and headed for the horses.

Merlin glanced at Freya to see her eyes dancing with mirth. His stomach somersaulted pleasantly.

The journey resumed in relative silence. Merlin figured Arthur would eventually get bored or suspicious that Merlin wasn't blathering on, but he was too busy enjoying his telepathic conversation with Freya to care. The rode single file, so he couldn't see her facial expressions, but he could tell from the tone of her projected thoughts that she, too, was in a good mood.

_So Prince Arthur truly doesn't know that you're Emrys?_ She asked again in disbelief.

_Nope!_ Merlin thought, trying to hide a cheeky grin. He thought to himself how hard it was to have an entire conversation mentally without giving it away with facial expressions.

_Why not-if you don't mind me asking?_ She sounded genuinely confused.

_Because, well, he's not ready yet. You saw how he treated you all at first._

_But he allowed me to come with you and sent Rhiannon and Drustan with supplies and horses. So how do you know he wouldn't warm up to you, too?_

Merlin sighed audibly. Arthur turned in his saddle to look at him.

"What's wrong, _Mer_lin?"

"I've been on a horse all day," Merlin bluffed quickly.

"Oh, is ickle Merlin's rump sore?" Arthur teased.

"Well, it's not as fat as yours!"

The sound of Freya's laughter echoed in his mind like dozens of tiny bells.

"I am _not_ fat!...Shut up," Arthur blustered indignantly.

"Shutting up, sire," Merlin replied with a smile. _That should keep him from interrupting us again for a while_, he projected.

He glanced back to see Freya blush slightly.

They reached the foot of the White Mountains about an hour after sundown and set up camp. Freya tended the horses and laid out the bedrolls while Merlin gathered firewood and built a fire. Arthur left to hunt a few rabbits to supplement their provisions. He returned just in time to see Freya carrying water for the horses with magic, floating a large orb of water ahead of her and pouring it into a hollowed log for the horses to drink.

Arthur froze and stared. Merlin looked up at him quickly, tearing his eyes away from secretly watching Freya's casual, comfortable magic.

"Arthur," Merlin sounded calm, but his insides were churning, "Don't do something you'll regret…"

"Freya." It was a command, not a question.

"Yes, sire?" Freya turned to face him, her face gentle and calm.

"What are you doing?"

"Helping."

"_Helping_? You were breaking the law!"

"Um, Arthur?" Merlin interjected, "Technically we all are, since we're not currently sitting in your father's dungeon..."

Freya looked Arthur in the eye and answered his question. "I may not be a skilled fighter, but I can serve in other ways. You are the only king I acknowledge, and I would like to serve you, regardless of my skill set."

Arthur stared at her as though he couldn't process what she'd just said. Emotion after emotion flashed across his features.

Merlin broke the silence, "Arthur?"

Arthur turned away abruptly and walked off into the woods.

_Stay here-I'll go after him_, Merlin projected to Freya as he dropped the extra firewood he'd been holding, grabbed a burning stick as a torch, and hurried off after the prince.

**A/N: A serving of budding-Freylin with a side of Arthurian philosophical angst…Let me know what you think! How do y'all like Freya? I'm still trying to figure out exactly what she'd be like if she wasn't terrified of being caged and hadn't spent a year as a bastet (she's not cursed-well, not in that way-in this AU…), but I'm not sure I've got it quite right yet. So I'd love to hear your thoughts!**


	13. Chapter 13: Friendly Advice

**A/N: Today's a two-for-one chapter special! Mainly because I wrote so much today I decided to break it into two chapters. :)**

**Thank you, as always, to all you wonderful people who took the time to leave reviews! I love knowing that people are reading this and enjoying it or offering ways to make it better, so thanks!**

Chapter 13: Friendly Advice

Merlin caught up with Arthur a hundred paces outside the light of their campfire. He was leaning against a thick tree, his right forearm braced against it and his forehead resting on his forearm. He didn't look up when Merlin reached him.

"Sire?" Merlin said hesitantly.

There was no answer.

"...Arthur?" he tried again.

"What do I do, Merlin?" Arthur sighed and dropped his arm as he turned to face Merlin. "I'm the prince! I can't just turn a blind eye to magic! Especially not after everything I've lost to it!"

Arthur ran a hand through his hair, leaving it standing haphazardly on end.

"But Freya's different, isn't she?" Merlin offered, sensing what Arthur couldn't put into words.

"That was practically a vow of fealty-what she said back there," Arthur sighed. "And she helped me escape-"

"-And continues to risk her life by traveling with you and serving you when she could have gone with Rhiannon and Drustan," Merlin interrupted pointedly.

Arthur stood deep in thought for a minute before speaking. "What did she mean, 'the only king I acknowledge'?"

Merlin took a deep breath. He could feel his magic swirling beneath his skin, as though this moment was an important milestone in their shared destiny. "She believes the prophecy-"

Arthur opened his mouth to interrupt sarcastically, but Merlin ploughed on, "No, please listen-that you are the Once and Future King. She believes you will be a great king, wise and fair, who will treat every one of his subjects-no matter what gifts they possess-with the dignity and justice they deserve. And for what it's worth, prat, I believe you will be, too."

Merlin smiled a trademark grin and admitted, "That's why I left Camelot to come with you, and why Freya feels comfortable using her magic to serve you. At the end of the day, we're not just loyal to Camelot; we're loyal to _you_."

Arthur stood staring at him. "You really mean that?"

Merlin smiled. "Yes, clotpole, but don't let it go to your head!"

Arthur punched Merlin affectionately in the shoulder. "Don't worry, I know you won't let me."

"Ow! What was that for?"

"I didn't hit you _that _hard!"

"Well, it still hurt!"

"Idiot…"

"Dollop head…"

"_What?_"

The next thing Merlin knew, he was in a headlock. Miraculously-_Magically_, he thought, _though the prat would never notice_-he somehow managed not to drop the flaming torch.

"You heard me," Merlin muttered from his awkward position shoved under Arthur's arm. "Dollop. Head. Two words, noun, definition: "Prince Arthur."

"You're lucky there are no stables here to muck, _Mer_lin. Now sit down."

With that, Arthur released Merlin, who obeyed grudgingly, pouting and rubbing his sore neck with his free hand.

"Since you're here, I want to give you a bit of advice," Arthur announced as he sat down on the forest floor beside Merlin.

Merlin sighed pointedly. _That's never a good thing_.

"Don't think I haven't noticed," Arthur began.

"Noticed what?" Merlin asked.

"You and Freya. Don't think I haven't seen the looks you've been giving each other."

Merlin tensed at that. Arthur nodded.

"So I was right. There is something going on."

"So what if there is-not that there is, I mean, but…" Merlin countered.

Arthur cut him off. "Merlin, take it from someone who knows about women-"

Merlin scoffed, "Like you? Very funny."

"Seriously, Merlin, don't get involved with Freya. I may be able to turn a blind eye to her magic here, but I can't grant her amnesty in Camelot when we return."

Merlin just stared at the torch flames, his jaw clenched tight.

Arthur placed a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "I don't want you getting your heart broken over a sorceress. So wait and find yourself a nice girl who's not a magical fugitive, okay? You know, someone who's more on your level."

_If only he knew_, Merlin thought with a huff, '_Magical fugitive' is _exactly_ 'my level.'"_

Arthur gave his shoulder one last pat and stood up to return to camp.

"'_Do as I say, not as I do_,'" Merlin quipped bitterly as he stood and brushed off his trousers.

Arthur spun back to face him, anger flaring in his eyes. "What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, it's all right for you to fall for Gwen, knowing your father would never approve, but it's not okay for me to fall for a peasant girl because she's not welcome in Camelot?"

"I don't want to discuss this tonight," Arthur snapped, effectively tabling the topic. He clenched his fists and took a deep breath, calming himself down before he spoke again. "Merlin, just think it over, okay? Now, let's go make some supper. It's been a long day and we don't want to keep Freya waiting."


	14. Chapter 14: Such Stuff As Dreams

**A/N: Welcome to the longest chapter yet in this fic! :) I wanted to break it into two chapters but it just seemed like it needed to flow as one chapter. **

**Thank you all for the kind reviews and questions, the favorites, and the follows. Y'all are such an encouragement. I'll try to respond individually to all the reviews asap.**

**To answer a question that seems to be on several reviewers' minds: Yes, this fic is still eventual Mergana. I haven't changed my mind. The current Freylin sub-plot is just that; a sub-plot, albeit an important one. Merlin and Morgana have a lot of growing up to do while they're apart. Which brings me to this chapter…hopefully the hints of Mergana in it will be enough to tide y'all over for a while, haha.**

Chapter 14: Such Stuff As Dreams Are Made On

Morgana stared at Gaius, trying to process what he'd just admitted. "You _know_ Emrys? How? Does Merlin? Does this mean Arthur actually _does_ know him? Why…?"

Gaius smiled and held up a kind hand to quell the tide of questions pouring from the young woman's mouth.

"Yes, I do know Emrys. So does Merlin. No, I can't tell you how-it's not my secret to tell. No, Arthur doesn't know Emrys exactly, but Emrys knows Arthur."

"What?" Morgana interjected, confusion furrowing her brows. "How does that work?"

"Again, not my secret to tell. But trust me, Emrys would give his life to protect Arthur. If he says Arthur is safe, we should believe him."

Morgana thought for a moment in silence, surprise flitting across her elegant features. "But that means...wait, is Arthur really the Once and Future King? The one who will restore magic to the land?" She looked at Gaius, eyes full of hope.

"Yes, my dear, he most certainly is," Gaius smiled, his weathered face crinkling in amusement. He leaned forward conspiratorially. "But he doesn't know it yet."

Morgana laughed. "This is just too good! Uther's son is going to restore magic, Uther's ward is a sorceress, Emrys is a friend of yours, next thing you'll tell me that dragons still exist! After all this, I'll believe anything!"

Gaius merely raised an eyebrow at her. She slowly stopped laughing.

"No, you're not serious."

Gaius just smiled at her.

"Dragons? Really?" She stared at the elderly physician, her mouth hanging open.

"Would you like to meet him?"

That was how Morgana came to be standing next to Gaius on a narrow outcropping of rock in a cavern deep below the citadel. In front of her perched the largest creature she had ever seen with her waking eyes. With a start, she remembered dreams from her childhood of a dragon-_Wait, this exact dragon!_-setting Camelot ablaze. She shuddered. _Courage, Morgana! This is not the time for fear_, she told herself.

"Well, well, well," the dragon rumbled.

Morgana cast a startled look to Gaius.

"Yes, young witch, I do talk. And I have wanted to speak with you ever since I felt the shift."

"What shift, Kilgarrah?" Gaius asked.

"Destiny shifted not two days ago. Many paths were broken and reforged," Kilgarrah mused, looking pointedly at Morgana, "But none more dramatic than your own."

"Mine?" Morgana whispered. _Pull yourself together_, she thought.

"Yes, young witch. Not two days ago, your destiny was as certain as snow on the mountains. Now, well, it shifts and swirls like fog upon the moors. Its final form is yet to be Seen."

"What does that mean?" Morgana asked in frustration. _Could you be any more vague?_

"I see you share a certain bluntness with Emrys," Kilgarrah smiled, showing row upon row of enormous teeth.

Morgana gulped. "Wait, did you say _Emrys_?"

"Already destiny's changed face is manifest. You have heard of Emrys already?"

"Yes, just yesterday. You know him, too?"

"Yes, young witch, he and I are kin."

"He's a _dragon_?" Morgana took a step back.

Kilgarrah laughed, a thunderous chuckle like a roaring bonfire in his belly.

"No, young witch, our souls are kin, though our physical forms could hardly be more different."

Both Kilgarrah and Gaius laughed. _Why am I the only one who doesn't get the joke? _Morgana sighed to herself.

"Why will no one tell me who this Emrys is?" Morgana huffed, crossing her arms in front of her.

"Because it is his secret alone to tell. When the time is right and destiny reveals its true form, then you shall know," Kilgarrah nodded sagely, as though impressed with his own pronouncements.

"Why must I wait?" Morgana asked.

"Before and after the shift, young witch, only two things remained constant," Kilgarrah settled down on the rocky outcropping and crossed his massive clawed front limbs comfortably before continuing. "Emrys and Arthur remained bound to one another-two sides of the same coin, you see-and _you_ remained bound to Emrys."

_Me? And Emrys?_

Kilgarrah continued, "How exactly, though, has yet to be Seen. Take heed, young witch, for your new path lies as the edge of a dagger's blade-stray but a little and you will fall."

As Gwen helped her prepare for bed, Morgana pondered her meeting with Kilgarrah-_A real live dragon!_-only two hours ago. With Gaius' blessing, Morgana had hurried back to her chambers to find Gwen and tell her everything. After all, they had agreed, Emrys even seemed to want Gwen to know, even if she wasn't magical herself. And, Morgana had pointed out, Merlin knew about Emrys and he certainly wasn't magical either-_he would have told me if he was_-so that was no reason to keep secrets from Gwen. Gaius had then astutely observed with a chuckle that, while it would be difficult to hide Morgana's impending magic lessons with Gaius from Uther, it would be nearly impossible to hide them from her maid and best friend.

Gwen had handled the growing series of revelations surprisingly well. She had only squeaked in shock twice, only interrupted in surprise once, and had otherwise calmly allowed Morgana to lay all the facts before her from start to finish. Morgana had to admit to herself that she was impressed. Gwen had handled the situation calmly, like a queen handling affairs of state. Morgana had stood there nervously when she'd finished, waiting for her friend to pass judgment on her. But much to her relief, Gwen had simply pulled her into a hug and declared, "This doesn't change anything, Morgana. I always knew you were special-now I simply know why." Then they had both cried.

Now, as Morgana climbed into bed, a thought she'd been running from for the past two hours crept to the front of her mind.

"Gwen?" she asked.

"Yes, Morgana?"

"Do you remember that recurring dream I had when I was younger-right after you became my maid? The one about the dragon?"

Gwen's eyes grew wide as she nodded. "Do you think that was a vision, too? Do you think the dragon-Kilgarrah-will attack Camelot?"

"I don't know, Gwen," Morgana sighed as she settled down into the fluffy pillows. "If destiny really did shift, maybe all the old visions will never come to pass. But I'm scared. Kilgarrah is the dragon from my dreams-I'm sure of it."

Gwen sat on the edge of the bed and took Morgana's pale hand. "Then we'll deal with the situation if it happens. Please don't worry about it now, milady."

"Would you mind staying here tonight? I'd rather not be alone with my nightmares."

"But I thought they'd stopped?" Gwen looked surprised.

"They had, thanks to the healing bracelet Morgause had given me. But Gaius thinks it may contain other powerful magic which might bode ill and asked to borrow it to run some tests."

"Of course, milady. I'll just be in the other room if you need anything."

Gwen squeezed her hand before heading to the antechamber. Morgana blew out the candle and soon fell asleep.

The sounds of her own screams and Gwen's panicked voice woke her an hour before dawn. She wrenched her eyes open to see every candle in the room burning brightly. She shook her head violently, but images from her dream still flashed across her mind's eye. _A town burning. People screaming. The distant, dark silhouette of a slender figure struck by a sword, collapsing to the ground in front of a burning blacksmith's forge._ "Merlin!" she whimpered, her eyes refusing to focus.

"Morgana!" Gwen cried, shaking her shoulder. "It's all right-it's just a dream!"

Morgana's eyes settled on the merlin hawk, perched sleepily on her dressing table with its head tucked under one wing. Instantly she leapt out of bed, fully awake now. "We have to get Gaius!" She grabbed a robe as she pulled Gwen after her toward the chamber door. "Merlin and Arthur are in danger! We must send a warning to Emrys!"

**P.S. Bonus points to anyone who spotted both a Shakespeare and a (modified) Tolkien reference in this chapter ;)**


	15. Chapter 15: The Calm Before The Storm

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews, favs, and follows! I'm so grateful! It's been a busy weekend, but I'll really try to reply individually to the new reviews ASAP! :) Thank you again!**

Chapter 15: The Calm Before The Storm

Arthur, Merlin, and Freya rose early and set out on the final leg of their journey to Elyan's village. They reached the outskirts of Glastonbury by mid-afternoon. Merlin smiled as they rode down the central lane through the village. _So much like Ealdor_, he thought to himself. They made their way to the blacksmith's forge. Elyan was a good man and instantly reminded them of Gwen, but he was also cautious. It took Merlin rattling off seventeen obscure facts that only Gwen's friends would know about her before Elyan agreed to take in complete strangers claiming they were sent by his little sister. Only then did they introduce themselves. Elyan was appropriately shocked, but like his sister, possessed an uncanny ability to roll with life's punches and promptly made them feel at home-as much as fugitives can feel at home, that is. They all washed, changed, and rested. Merlin had packed spare clothes for himself and Arthur, but Elyan had to loan Freya some trousers and a tunic while her freshly-washed dress hung up to dry. The tunic was so large on Freya's slender frame that she had to ask Merlin to loan her a neckerchief to make it more modest.

After a simple supper, Merlin offered to take a quick look around the village to make sure there were no signs of trouble, and Freya offered to check on the horses. At least, that's what they'd each told Arthur and Elyan before separately heading out of the cottage into the twilight. Telepathically, Merlin had invited Freya out for an evening stroll.

Merlin caught up with Freya as she walked from the cottage towards the stable behind the forge.

"Maybe we should check on the horses, just to keep up appearances in case the prat decides to follow us," Merlin suggested.

They put out a little extra hay for the horses and Merlin refilled the water trough discretely with magic before they headed out into the crisp night air again. They walked along the perimeter of the village, enjoying the gentle breeze. It was just on the cusp of autumn, when the days were still simmering but the nights hinted at the chilly weather to come. Merlin shrugged off his jacket and helped Freya into it.

"We'll need to get you some new clothes tomorrow," he mused.

Freya nodded, "I'm afraid the past few weeks have pushed my dress beyond hope for even the most skilled seamstress."

"I'm sure we can find something that suits you-something fit for a princess," Merlin grinned.

Freya blushed. "I'm not a princess."

"That's a matter of opinion."

Embarrassed, Freya quickly changed the subject. "So you've told me a lot about your life in Camelot; tell me about your childhood."

"Um, I grew up in Ealdor, just over the border into Cenred's kingdom. Tiny village, a lot like this one. Nothing special, just some fields; a couple of cows."

"My home was next to the lake, surrounded by the tallest mountains. This time of year, it was all wildflowers and light. It was like heaven." She smiled at the memory, but Merlin saw a shadow of sadness cross her eyes.

"What happened?" Merlin asked.

"My family died."

Merlin reached out and grasped her hand comfortingly. It fit perfectly in his. _This is nice_, he thought.

_Yes, it is_, Freya replied, letting her fingers entwine with his.

Merlin looked startled. _Did I project that?_

Freya laughed and nodded. Merlin was pretty sure he could listen to her laugh all day.

"You know," Freya said, "I always liked Emrys in the stories growing up...but I think I like Merlin even better."

It was Merlin's turn to blush. "I've never met anyone like you before. With you, I can just be myself."

Merlin realized they'd stopped walking and were just standing in the middle of a starlit apple orchard, hands still joined, facing one another. Merlin raised his other hand and gently stroked Freya's cheek. She tilted her face to look up at him, her eyes sparkling with reflected starlight.

_You're perfect_, he thought. And then he kissed her.

A minute later, a rustling in the trees above them made them both jump.

_What's that? _Freya asked as calmly as she could.

_I don't know...stay close to me, _Merlin replied, not letting go of her hand.

They both sighed in relief when a small falcon emerged from the nearest tree. Merlin recognized it immediately. He held out his left arm-he was still loathe to let go of Freya's hand with his right-and the hawk landed on it. He whispered, "_Þæt ærendgewrit, cume mec_," and the message bound to the bird's leg unfurled and hung in the air in front of them.

_Emrys,_

_I have Seen tonight-the first time in many months. I believe Arthur is going to be ambushed. Aredian and Halig have been hunting for them tirelessly. I'm afraid my dream means they will succeed soon. I Saw a town in chaos and a figure struck down outside a forge on fire-I fear it might be Merlin. Please, Emrys, I'm begging you, protect him and Arthur. I couldn't bear to lose either of them._

_Morgana_

Merlin glanced at Freya as he finished reading. She had visibly paled and was gripping his hand more tightly, staring at the ground. With a flash of gold, he released the falcon from its mission. His left arm free again, he gently took her other hand in his.

"Freya, look at me," he said gently.

Tears glistened in her eyes, mingling with the starlight from before. "I don't want to lose you," she whispered.

"Don't worry, you won't. I'll be careful. But we should get back to the cottage and warn Arthur."

He dipped his head for another all-too-brief kiss before they hurried back to the cottage.

**A/N: Spell translates roughly as the following command: "The message, come to me."**


	16. Chapter 16: Flames

**A/N: **

**WARNING: This chapter is why this story has a T rating. There's some pretty intense violence. If you're sensitive to that sort of thing, just skip to the author's note at the end of this chapter—I'll summarize it for you.**

Chapter 16: Flames

"We're too late!" Merlin groaned as they reached Glastonbury's main road.

Ahead, they could already see the eerie orange light of a conflagration. Fear gripped Merlin's heart as they ran down the lane. He shoved it aside and focused on gathering his magic within, readying himself for whatever awaited them.

The forge had been torched and the flames were quickly spreading to the cottage, where shouting and the clang of clashing swords echoed from inside.

"Wait here, Freya," Merlin ordered. "I want you safe."

Without waiting for an answer, he rushed into the burning cottage. Inside, the room was awash in grisly shadows, cast by the six figures who fought in close combat. The furniture lay broken and scattered around the room. Elyan and Arthur had been cornered by the Camelot soldiers on opposite sides of the rooms. Both men looked over when Merlin burst through the door.

"Where have you been?" shouted Arthur as he parried another blow.

Merlin didn't have time to answer. Suddenly, a fiery rafter collapsed. Arthur and one of his attackers fell to the ground, unconscious. The second soldier leapt clear just in time.

"Get him out of here!" Elyan yelled to Merlin before flinging himself at the three remaining assailants with renewed vigor. Merlin didn't hesitate. He lunged forward, grabbed Arthur by his jacket collar, and-with a discrete flash of gold-dragged him forcibly from beneath the smouldering rubble.

Pulling Arther over his shoulder in a fireman's carry after using a wordless spell to lighten him, he cast one last glance at Elyan. Elyan met his eyes and gave a short nod before returning his complete attention to the three soldiers. Merlin hesitated, unwilling to leave Elyan even when given permission.

That was when he heard it: a blood-curdling scream from outside. _Freya!_

Merlin rushed outside, carrying Arthur's limp body. Freya stood cornered, the flaming forge behind her. Halig and a trio of soldiers towered in front of her. She was trapped.

She yelled a spell as a last resort. "_Forþ fleoge!_"

The soldiers flew backwards and lay still where they landed. Halig merely laughed-a deep, vindictive laugh.

"You think your petty magic will work on me? I've learned a trick or two myself," he snarled as he lashed out with his sword.

Shocked, Freya didn't have time to react. The sword bit into her shoulder and sliced across her chest. She collapsed with a scream.

"Freya!"

Hatred he hadn't felt since the day he slaughtered Nimueh rose up inside him. He flung out a hand and yelled, "_Cume her fyrbryne!_"

White-hot flames leapt from the ground beneath Halig's feet. Whatever wards he'd used were no match for the sheer power Merlin flung at him. He was instantly consumed, his cries muffled by the crackling of the greedy inferno. Merlin rushed to Freya. She weakly took his hand and he helped her up. There was blood everywhere.

_So much blood_, Merlin thought. _Too much_.

He looked around quickly for more soldiers and, seeing none, slung Freya's good arm over his free shoulder. Supporting her and still carrying Arthur, they ran to the stables. By a stroke of luck or fate, the stables had not yet properly caught fire, though tongues of flame licked at the thatch and timbers. Inside, though, the horses were terrified. Freya whispered a charm to calm them as she pressed the neckerchief Merlin had loaned her across the wound to try to quell the bleeding. Merlin uttered a quick spell and the saddles flew into position. He secured the still-unconscious Arthur onto one of the horses before helping Freya mount a second. He grabbed a third for himself before turning the rest loose. They rode away from the flames into the dark woods.

**A/N: For anyone who chose to skip this chapter for the violence rating, here's a quick summary: **

**Merlin and Freya return to find the cottage and forge ablaze, under attack from Halig and several soldiers of Camelot. Arthur gets knocked out by a falling rafter and Elyan risks his life to buy Merlin time to get Arthur to safety. However, Freya is attacked by Halig before Merlin can intervene. Enraged, Merlin burns Halig to death before fleeing on horseback with an injured Freya and an unconscious Arthur.**


	17. Chapter 17: Let Her Go

**A/N: Thank you for all the reviews, favs, and follows! Man, this chapter was tricky to write. I didn't feel like it was edited sufficiently last night so I waited until today to post it. I'll still try to get ch 18 written and posted this evening as well…**

**In case anyone's interested, today's chapter title inspiration (and really, the chapter as a whole) comes from the song "Let Her Go" by Passenger. Check it out on YouTube…it's a beautifully heartbreaking piece.**

**Warning: If you're really squeamish, you might not enjoy this chapter…there's some detailed discussion of Freya's injuries.**

Chapter 17: Let Her Go

Aredian sneered in disdain as five soldiers straggled up the hillside toward him and their waiting horses in the early hours of the morning, dragging an additional man. Two of them and their prisoner smelled of smoke and were streaked with scorch marks. Bound tightly, the prisoner was flung at Aredian's feet.

"This blacksmith was harboring the fugitives, sir."

Aredian's reply was frighteningly calm.

"Tell me, captain, where are the fugitives, then?"

"They, um, got away, sir."

Aredian kicked Elyan viciously in the ribs, eliciting a groan of pain. "They escaped because of your incompetence! Where is Halig? The king will have his head for this!"

"Sir, the druid girl was with the prince and his servant. She...used magic. Knocked three of us out cold for half an hour. And Halig, well...he's dead, sir, along with two of my men."

"We will return to Camelot immediately for reinforcements and to interrogate this blacksmith. He will rue the day he dared to come between a hunter and his prey."

Merlin didn't dare stop until they were over a league from Glastonbury. Every instinct told him to put as much distance as possible between them and their pursuers to protect Arthur, but he knew that every moment spent riding was a moment longer before he could tend to Freya's wound. Finally, after a quarter hour of hard riding, the woods opened out into a clearing on the edge of a lake. Merlin halted his and Arthur's mounts and Freya followed suit.

In a flash, Merlin had dismounted and tied their horses to a tree. He approached Freya's horse to assist her. He couldn't help notice just how pale she looked in the moonlight. Her face was drawn in pain as he helped her down from the saddle, but once standing she forced a smile of gratitude.

"Thank you, Merlin," she whispered.

He led her to a log facing the lake, bathed in moonlight.

"Let me take a look," he said as calmly as he could manage past the lump of fear in his throat. His thought from earlier echoed repeatedly in his mind in time with his pounding heart: _Too much blood_.

Freya allowed him to examine the gash, relinquishing his neckerchief she'd been using to staunch the blood flow. Though he couldn't see the bloodstains on the red scrap of cloth, he flinched when he took it from her and realized it was completely saturated.

Merlin strained his eyes in the moonlight. _I need more light!_ He thought desperately. He glanced over at Arthur, still unconscious on his horse. _She is worth the risk_.

"_Leoht_," he murmured. A globe of gentle blue light hovered above Merlin's left shoulder, illuminating Freya's injury clearly. What he saw shocked him.

_Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?_ Merlin cried to Freya's mind, _You needed healing spells right away!_

_We wouldn't have made it out of the village alive if we had delayed, _Freya replied simply.

Merlin could tell she was quickly tiring. The pain and the loss of blood were taking their toll. He summarized her injuries in his mind the way Gaius had taught him: _Fractured right collarbone, deep incisions, probable damage to muscles and ligaments, severe blood loss, risk of infection._ He exhaled slowly. It was a formidable list. But that wouldn't stop him from trying. He squeezed Freya's hand on her good arm, projected, _This will hurt, sorry_, and rattled off a bone-setting spell. With a crackle of bone and a whimper from Freya, her collarbone mended back together.

_Good, _Merlin thought to himself, _One problem down._

He tried a spell to quell the bleeding next. "_Blðdseten_."

Blood continued pouring from the gash, especially near the newly repaired bone. _Maybe I did it wrong_, he thought to himself. He tried the spell again.

"_Blðdseten_." He definitely felt the magic flow out from him, but there was still no effect. Freya was growing weaker by the minute.

"_Blðdseten!_" Merlin cried in frustration, his shoulders heaving from the magical effort.

He felt a gentle hand on his right cheek. Freya slowly lifted his face to look at her. "Merlin, please," she said. _The wound's too deep. There is too much damage to the vessels. Your magic is strong, Merlin, but now there is nothing more you can do._

_I will not stop trying!_ Merlin replied, desperate to prove her wrong.

_No, Merlin, you cannot fix this. I'm sorry, my love._

A tear slipped down Merlin's cheek as he straddled the log and gently wrapped himself around Freya's trembling form. He tucked her head gently under his chin, stroking her hair with one hand and holding her close with the other. _I'll stay with you_, he projected.

_I know_, came her reply.

He could tell she was smiling faintly before he allowed the blue orb to fade. Merlin's tears flowed in earnest now, as did Freya's. He rocked her gently back and forth.

_Merlin?_ She asked a moment later.

_Yes, love?_

_I wanted to say...thank you. For everything. For the privilege of sharing in your destiny._

Merlin muffled a sob in her hair.

_And most of all for the gift of your heart_, she concluded.

_Freya, I love you. Don't go._

_I love you, too, Merlin. Do something for me? _

Merlin nodded.

_Don't let bitterness consume you. Let go, but don't forget me._

He tipped her head back gently and kissed her deeply, their tears mingling and flavoring the kiss bittersweet. All too soon she grew limp in his arms, but he continued to hold her until he was roused by the sounds of Arthur regaining consciousness.

**A/N: Yay, Elyan's alive! But poor Freya and Merlin! It was hard to write this. :( In case anyone's curious, my intended medical explanation for Freya's death is bleeding out due to a crushed/severed subclavian artery. (Oh the strange things writers end up googling!) I'm not a medical professional, so I don't know if my description's accurate, but that was the intent.**

**Let me know if you loved or hated this chapter and where you're hoping the story will go from here! :)**


	18. Chapter 18: Headache-Heartache

**A/N: Have y'all recovered from ch 17 yet? Hopefully this will help a bit! In the future, should I post a chapter warning for "character death"? Because I'm warning y'all now, Freya's not the only one who won't survive this fic. (I'm not opposed to killing off characters or sparing them contrary to canon if there's a compelling reason to do so…)**

**This wraps up one subplot (though ramifications linger) and introduces the next subplot arc. To make up for the seriousness of the past few chapters, I bring you a hearty serving of all-the-feels!Arthur with a side of concussed!Arthur ;)**

Chapter 18: Headache/Heartache

Arthur ambled back to consciousness one sensation at a time. The first was his throbbing skull. Second, the realization he was secured to the back of a horse. _That's odd_. Third, it was the middle of the night. Last, and most concerning, he realized he didn't know where he was or how he'd gotten there.

"Merlin?" he called tentatively into the darkness.

No reply. He tried hard to figure out the last thing he could remember before waking up here. He sifted through hazy memories of the flight from Camelot, the Druids, meeting Elyan…

Suddenly, the ambush came flooding backing into his consciousness, intensifying his headache tenfold. _Was he a prisoner? Is that why he was tied to a horse? _

"Merlin!" he shouted. _Did he make it out alive? What about the others?_

Trying not to panic-and failing-Arthur began to struggle.

A subdued "Sire?" from the other side of the clearing made him stop instantly.

"Merlin! You're alive!" Arthur said happily, then turned serious, "What happened? Where are we?"

"We're by the Lake of Avalon, sire, about a league outside Glastonbury."

Merlin answered the question factually, but Arthur could tell he was holding something back.

"...What are you not telling me, Merlin?" Arthur asked not unkindly.

"You were knocked out in the attack. Freya and I got you out and brought you here. They haven't followed us so far…" Merlin's voice trailed off, choked with emotion.

_Good, we're not prisoners. That's a relief...wait, what's wrong with Merlin?_

"Were you injured?" Arthur asked, trying to hide his concern behind a business-like tone.

"No, sire."

There was a long pause.

"But?" Arthur asked impatiently.

"Freya…"

"Out with it, _Mer_lin! And for the love of Camelot, get me off this horse!" Arthur snapped. _I never was good at handling suspense_, Arthur reproved himself for his harshness.

"She's...gone. She's dead."

Merlin said the words with such simplicity. Brokenness flowed from every syllable. Arthur heard Merlin rise slowly and move toward him to follow his order. Arthur was silent for a minute as Merlin worked at the knots before replying softly, "I'm sorry, Merlin."

Merlin uttered a noncommittal sound and continued helping Arthur.

"How did...it...happen?"

"You can see for yourself in a minute," Merlin brushed away the question and furtively wiped his eyes on his sleeve.

It was then that Arthur noticed with horror the sheer quantity of blood staining Merlin's blue tunic. He was accustomed to blood; he had been 'trained to kill from birth' as he'd once quipped to Merlin, but seeing his closest companion and confidant drenched in it was an entirely different matter. It made his stomach turn.

A moment later, another thought suddenly struck him.

"And Elyan?"

Another pause. This time Arthur held his tongue, bracing himself for the worst.

"...I don't know."

"What do you mean?"

"He...bought me time to get you to safety. Then Freya…" Merlin's voice trailed off. He cleared his throat gruffly before continuing, "Well, we got you out of there as fast as we could."

Merlin finished untying him and steadied him as he dismounted. The world spun slightly each time he turned his head, but with Merlin's hand on his shoulder, he managed. _I've certainly had worse_, Arthur thought with a rueful smile.

Once both his feet were firmly planted on the ground and the world had-for the moment-stopped tilting precariously, he asked, "Is she...here?"

Merlin nodded and gestured with his head towards the other side of the clearing, refusing to actually look in that direction.

Arthur nodded. As Merlin busied himself with the horses, he began to walk slowly across the clearing, pausing periodically as waves of dizziness came and went, with a brief bout of nausea thrown in for good measure. _I hate concussions_, Arthur thought, _I always seem to miss something important and the aftermath is like the worst hangover ever._

He approached the small form resting on the ground. She lay still, as though peacefully asleep, save for her arms crossed over her chest, Merlin's blood-soaked handkerchief folded in her hands. Arthur swallowed thickly as he took in the large gash in her shoulder and chest. _Blood loss_, he thought automatically. He understood now why Merlin was drenched in Freya's blood. It was a slow and painful way to go. _And Merlin had to watch it happen-no wonder he's in such a state. If it had been Guinevere…_

Arthur couldn't bring himself to even finish the thought. He knew he'd be a wreck. Even if he couldn't admit it, even if he and Guinevere weren't really a couple-not officially, at least-he knew that the day something happened to her would be the day his world ended.

He felt his eyes burning and his vision blurred slightly. He quickly turned away from Freya's body and slowly made his way back to the horses. _I'm not crying_, Arthur told himself, _It's another stupid symptom of the concussion_.

He looked around. Merlin was nowhere to be seen.

"Merlin? Merlin!" Arthur called, trying not to sound worried for his servant-friend.

"Yes, sire?" Merlin replied flatly as he appeared at the edge of the lake where the trees grew down to the water's edge. He was almost knee-deep in the water, trouser-legs rolled up, pulling a little battered row-boat along beside him.

Arthur looked at him in confusion.

"We need to bury her. Properly," Merlin explained. His voice sounded stronger than before.

"Hmm," Arthur agreed. _Can't you think of something better-more supportive-to say, Arthur? _he berated himself.

Together they beached the tiny boat. Merlin gently placed Freya's small form inside. Arthur pulled down a few leafy branches and gathered some dry twigs for kindling. He and Merlin arranged them along the inside of the boat. Internally, he was at war with himself.

_She's a Druid, a sorceress. The law forbids an honorable burial!_ The voice of his father ranted in his head.

_But she saved your life and she mattered a great deal to Merlin_, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Guinevere's countered. At the moment, it seemed like the Guinevere-voice was winning.

"I'll get the flint," Merlin said quietly, interrupting Arthur's train of thought.

Merlin returned a moment later. He tried to light the kindling repeatedly but couldn't seem to get a decent spark. Arthur could see his growing distress.

"Here, let me," Arthur said, taking the flint from him. Merlin didn't object.

Arthur got a decent spark on his second try and fanned the kindling until he was certain the branches would catch, too.

"Merlin?" Arthur stepped back to allow Merlin to give Freya her final send off. He looked away pointedly as Merlin bent to place a final kiss on Freya's too-still lips.

After another pause, Merlin waded out with the boat until the water was up to his knees again. The smaller branches were burning steadily now.

"_þu reste in se éar, and __drýcræft__íede tó þú éadnes,"_ Merlin said reverently as he pushed the boat out into the open water. He slowly turned and made his way to the shore where Arthur waited.

"What was _that_?" Arthur asked, a sudden irrational fear twisting his gut. _Was Merlin trying to do magic?_

"That?" Merlin asked absently. "Oh...it was an ancient prayer my mother taught me."

Unwilling to question it since the alternative was unthinkable, Arthur accepted the answer. They stood in awkward silence, watching the flames climb higher as the little boat drifted further into the lake. Suddenly, Arthur's stomach growled loudly. _Rubbish timing! _Arthur thought.

But to his surprise, Merlin laughed.

"Hungry, prat?" He asked, cracking the first smile Arthur had seen since he'd woken up.

Relieved, Arthur ran with it. _Try to take his mind off it._

"Starving," he replied. "So what's for breakfast?"

Merlin's smile faltered.

"Well, we didn't exactly have time to pack anything..."

"I was kidding, Merlin. Though that's a good point," Arthur mused. "We'll need to stop somewhere to get more provisions."

"Ealdor's only a few hours' ride to the west of here," Merlin thought aloud. "We could stop there for food and supplies. But we shouldn't stay-it's too dangerous."

Arthur noticed he didn't specify who that would be dangerous for. _Not that I blame him._

"Then it's decided; Ealdor it is." Arthur clapped Merlin on the shoulder before turning to prepare the horses for the next leg of their journey. Merlin stood on the shore for a minute longer, staring out over the water, before joining Arthur to complete their preparations. When he did, his usual humor had returned, but Arthur could see in his eyes that he was still a far cry from all right.

**A/N: Leave a review, maybe? Seriously, I will shower digital cupcakes upon every single reviewer! My only request is that if you say you hated it (which is totally your prerogative), that you say why/tell me how I can improve it. I apparently lost a reader over the last chapter, but they didn't say why and it was a guest review so I can't ask them. :( Made me really sad (I hate disappointing people!), which made it hard to get started on this chapter. So please, please, **_**please**_**, leave constructive reviews! :D Thanks, I love you all. :)**

**Spell Translations:**

**The words that Merlin says are not intended as a spell, but rather Merlin expressing a parting wish/blessing to Freya in the language of magic/the Old Religion. It roughly means, "**_**(You) Rest in the earth, and magic give to you peace**_**." I'm not well-versed in Old English, so I'm afraid y'all have to put up with what I crank through an online translator. :/**

**Oh! And the spell in ch 17 (**"_Blðdseten_"**) basically means "Stop bleeding"…super-original, I know. ;)**

**Thanks for reading! Don't forget to review! :D**


	19. Chapter 19: Ealdor

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, followed, and favorited since I posted Ch 18! Y'all are so kind and supportive! :D I'll send individual PM replies to y'all tomorrow :)**

**My apologies for not posting this last night—I usually write and post the daily chapter in the evenings, but last night I was at a Doctor Who-themed party with friends until quite late, so I postponed writing Ch 19 until today. Chapter 20 will be written and posted tomorrow, promise! :)**

Chapter 19: Ealdor

Merlin watered the horses and Arthur checked the tack before they rode out from the Lake of Avalon. They lead the third horse after them, the mare's empty saddle a painful reminder of what they left behind. Merlin spoke only when Arthur spoke to him first. When he replied, he managed to sound normal, but his heart wasn't in the banter. His heart ached beyond comprehension, so he hid. _Just like you do every day of your life, _he said to himself. _Hide behind a mask and play the jolly fool._

True to Merlin's prediction, they reached Ealdor in a few hours, arriving just before dawn. Managing to slip through the sleeping village unseen, they tethered the horses behind Hunith's cottage and knocked on the back door.

"Mother?" Merlin called through the closed door. _Don't want to startle her by barging in._

Merlin felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Here," Arthur said briskly, handing his own jacket over. "Put it on; don't want her seeing the blood and panicking."

Merlin glanced numbly down at his dark-stained tunic. "Oh. Right."

He shrugged the jacket on just in time. A second later, Hunith opened the door.

"Merlin?"

She took one look at the exhausted young men and bundled them inside, mothering them instantly without allowing them a word in edgewise for a good five minutes.

She had settled them both at the table, put a kettle on, and laid bread and butter in front of them before she finally gave them an opportunity to explain.

"Now, what brings you here, especially at this hour? I take it this isn't a social call."

Merlin glanced down at the bread in his hands. Arthur took the hint and dove into an explanation, starting with the witchfinder and the flight from Camelot. When Arthur relayed the events of that night, Merlin stiffened and fumbled with the crust, having lost his appetite. Mercifully, just then the forgotten kettle boiled over. Hunith jumped to pull it off the fire and poured three steaming mugs of tea.

Merlin cupped the mug in his hands, savoring the calming warmth. He felt numb all over. It took him a moment to realize that Hunith and Arthur were staring at him.

"Uh, what was the question?"

"My boy...you're crying," Hunith said softly, laying a hand over his. Merlin quickly scrubbed his other hand over his eyes to wipe away the evidence. Arthur looked uncomfortable. He cleared his throat.

"Um, I think I'll see to the horses...they'll need some hay after such a long night."

He quickly left the cottage, letting the door thud behind him. Merlin just stared into his tea. Hunith squeezed his hand.

"She meant a lot to you, this girl, didn't she?" Hunith asked gently.

"Freya," Merlin whispered reverently, "Yes, she did."

Hunith nodded. "I'm so sorry, Merlin."

Merlin lifted his gaze to meet his mother's. "I...I couldn't save her," Merlin confessed brokenly. "All this power, but I couldn't save her."

He hung his head, ashamed.

"Then no one else could have done any more," she soothed.

After a pause, Merlin spoke again, "Does it ever get easier?"

"Does what get easier, my boy?"

"Losing someone, I mean," Merlin said slowly. "I know you never talk about my father, but...well, does it get easier with time?"

Hunith stood and crossed to the window to stare out into the little garden. She wrapped her arms around herself and stood deep in thought.

At last, she said, "Yes...and no. The pain fades and you learn to carry on, but you never forget and you never stop missing them."

Merlin nodded, then sighed. He set his cup of tea on the rough-hewn table and stood. "I'd better wash up. We can't stay long."

Hunith looked surprised.

"I can't risk losing you, too," Merlin said.

With that, he picked up a pail and headed toward the door.

"Wait, Merlin."

Merlin paused and turned. "Mother?"

"Sit down. Washing up can wait a minute."

Merlin dutifully set the pail down and returned to the table. Hunith sat down across from him.

"Where will you and Prince Arthur go now?"

"...We don't know yet. We left Glastonbury without supplies, so we came here to regroup. We'll have to keep moving-anyone who harbors us will be at risk."

"I know where you can go," Hunith stated with sudden determination.

Merlin looked at her in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You asked me about your father," Hunith took a deep breath to steady herself, "Well, I'm going to send you to him."

**A/N: Did anyone see that coming? ;) **


	20. Chapter 20: Where To?

**A/N: Here's Ch 20 as promised. Sorry it's a bit short…today was busy! I sang in a concert tonight (and went to rehearsals this morning), so writing got put on the back burner, sorry! :( To make it up to you, I promise some serious hints of Mergana in Ch 21 tomorrow, which I guarantee I will have time to write and post!**

Chapter 20: Where To?

When Arthur finally ventured back into the cottage, Merlin was smiling and Hunith was setting steaming porridge on the table.

"Come and have some breakfast, Prince Arthur," Hunith invited as he stood awkwardly in the doorway.

Arthur sat and looked at Merlin, a question in his eyes.

Merlin understood. He set down his spoon and leaned back. _Ok, now how do I phrase this?_

"My mother knows...someone...who can help us. A place where we can go to plan," he explained.

"Ok, where?"

Merlin muttered the name and cringed a bit in anticipation.

"What was that, _Mer_lin?" Arthur asked sarcastically.

"The Perilous Lands."

"_What?_" Arthur exclaimed, dropping his spoon in his porridge with a mushy _splat_.

Hunith sat down and explained, "The man you need to seek is called Balinor. He has lived in the Perilous Lands for many years, beyond the reach of Uther's arm."

She smiled and Merlin noticed a faraway look steal into her eyes. "He is both wise and resourceful; he will be of great help to you."

"So he's a fugitive, too?" Arthur asked, suspicion casting a shadow over his eyes.

"He-like you-was wrongfully accused of treason. He fled Camelot twenty years ago, knowing he could never return. Your father would not stop hunting him, so he withdrew to the Perilous Lands, where none dared follow him."

"Rightly so...the place's a death trap…" Arthur muttered.

Merlin chose to ignore Arthur's comment, adding, "You'll be safe there, sire, until it's safe for you to return to Camelot."

"All right, fine," Arthur gave in. "We'll go find this Balinor. We'll set out at dusk. But first I'm going to need a new sword."

Merlin and Hunith exchanged glances.

"What?" Arthur asked impatiently.

"Well," Merlin explained, "That's going to be a bit complicated. There's no blacksmith in Ealdor."

Arthur just stared at him. _Why does he just assume every place it like Camelot?_

"Town's too small-everyone goes to neighboring Carmarthen to get tools sharpened."

"Fine, we'll head out tonight and stop somewhere tomorrow to get two good swords."

"Why do I need a sword?" Merlin asked in surprise.

Arthur smiled patronizingly.

"Look, I know you're rubbish with a sword, but we're heading for the Perilous Lands. Believe me, you're going to need one."

Merlin and Arthur spent the day preparing for the next leg of their journey. Merlin sold the third horse to Old Man Simmons on the far side of town to pay for the supplies they needed, pausing on the way home to slip into the trees and send a falcon-messenger to Morgana. He bought spare clothing and blankets as well as food. Hunith washed and mended their damaged clothes while they both got several hours of much-needed rest during the afternoon. She prepared supper for them before they headed out just after nightfall.

"Good luck, my boy," Hunith whispered as she hugged Merlin goodbye. Merlin met her eyes and, after a quick, solemn nod, turned to mount his horse. They rode out without looking back.

**A/N: So they're off again! :) Btw, has anyone been noticing my intentional geographic references to other versions of the Arthurian legends? Just wondering… ;)**


	21. Chapter 21: Magic and Musings

**A/N: Wow, so many milestones! 120 reviews, over 100 followers, and over 50 favorites! Y'all, I feel so very special. This has exceeded my wildest expectations for my very first fic! Seriously, y'all are wonderful. Thank you!**

**A special shout-out to **_**squaredplanet**_** for pointing out an error I made back in Ch 15…I had Morgana refer to Arthur as her brother…oops! It has been edited accordingly. Morgana thinks of Arthur like a brother but does not know that they are, in fact, siblings. So thanks for catching that! :) A digital cupcake for you in the flavor of your choice! :D**

**Thank you as well to the reviewers over the past week who can't receive PMs…I really appreciate you taking the time to review! :)**

**As promised, beginnings of Mergana in this long chapter to make up for the sadness of the past several chapters…**

Chapter 21: Magic and Musings

Morgana had been a wreck all day. _Waking up screaming because you Saw your friend die takes 'waking up on the wrong side of the bed' to a whole new level_, she thought in frustration as she sat across from Uther at supper. The chamber felt conspicuously empty without Arthur there. He'd be absent before, certainly, for a hunting trip or an extended patrol, but never before had he been a taboo subject. The forbidden topic hung in the air like smoke; it was slowly suffocating Morgana. _To sit here like nothing's wrong, like Arthur and Merlin aren't possibly fighting for their lives...and he just sits there and stuffs himself!_

Her anger was simmering within her. She could feel her magic roiling beneath her skin, wild and instinctual. She clenched her fists in her lap so that Uther couldn't see and mentally counted to ten to calm herself. An outburst of magic at supper was definitely _not_ on her to-do list.

_You're no help to Arthur and Merlin if you get yourself condemned for sorcery_, she scolded herself.

She needed to talk to Gaius. Maybe he could help her control the way her magic flared along with her emotions. Tensions would continue to run high until Arthur was safely restored to Camelot.

_I'm going to need help to keep my head attached to my shoulders until then_, she thought.

Her somber thoughts were interrupted.

"You've hardly touched your supper. Are you unwell?" Uther asked, in either real or feigned concern, Morgana couldn't tell.

Either way, this was her chance to escape this dreadful dinner ritual.

"My lord," she affected a pained smile, "I am afraid I'm feeling a bit ill. I've got a terrible headache. Would you excuse me for the night?"

"Of course," her guardian replied. "I'm sure Gaius can give you something to help."

"Thank you, my lord. I'll go see him immediately."

_Two birds with one stone_, Morgana smiled to herself when she was safely out of Uther's sight. _Free of that oppressive meal and free to spend the evening with Gaius!_

"Ah, Morgana!" Gaius exclaimed as she entered his chambers. "What can I do for you, my lady?"

Assuring herself they were alone, Morgana shut the door and turned to face Gaius.

"Uther believes I'm here for something for my headaches."

"But that's not exactly true, is it, my lady?" Gaius smiled knowingly.

"Can you help me?" Morgana blurted out, crossing to sit on the bench across the table from the elderly physician.

"I'll do my best," he replied sincerely. "What exactly do you need?"

"I want to learn to control my magic. Every time I get upset or scared or angry, it flares out of control," Morgana explained. "I can't risk that happening in front of Uther." _And I don't particularly want to have to replace my curtains regularly because I can't help but set them on fire…_

"Ah, I think I have just the thing," Gaius smiled and stood, scanning his extensive bookshelves. At last, he seemed to settle on the volume he was looking for, because he climbed the rickety staircase arching up the wall to the upper shelves and returned moments later with a thin leather-bound book.

To call it a book was perhaps too generous, Morgana mused. It was practically a pamphlet, so narrow it could fit between larger volumes practically unnoticed. There were no identifying marks on the binding or covers. Gaius handed it to her gently.

Filled with curiosity, she opened it to the first page. Immediately she could feel the magic emanating from it. Surprised, she dropped it on the table and the cover flipped closed. The magical sensation vanished.

"What was _that_?" she asked in shock.

"That, my dear, is a clever way to keep banned volumes from attracting attention. The cover is enchanted to dampen the magical aura of the book's contents," Gaius explained as he sat down again and picked up the object in question. He handed it back to her.

"Go ahead, open it again."

Morgana did as she was instructed. The magical aura rushed out, and she felt her own magic call to it. She looked at the first page, then looked up at Gaius in surprise.

"What language is this? I've never seen it before."

"The language of the Old Religion, the language of the Magic itself," Gaius spoke reverently.

"Can you read it?"

"Yes, and I'm going to teach you," Gaius smiled mischievously, suddenly reminding her of Merlin when he was about to say something sarcastic. "I'm afraid your 'headaches' are a chronic condition that will require extended daily treatment for some time."

She understood immediately. "Thank you!" she cried, leaping to her feet and hurrying to fling her arms around the elderly man.

He patted her back kindly. "It is my pleasure," he replied. "I can help you with magical control, but I'm afraid I'll have to defer to Kilgarrah for assistance developing your abilities as a Seer."

As Morgana returned to her seat on the opposite bench, a question seemed to suddenly occur to Gaius.

"No more messages from Emrys, I take it?" he asked eagerly.

"No, nothing at all," she said dejectedly. "Oh Gaius, I'm so worried! How can you be so calm?"

"I worry, too, my dear," he said wearily, suddenly looking his age. "I just don't show it. I've unfortunately had years of practice."

He sighed. "However, Emrys is watching out for them, so try to focus on that."

Morgana nodded. Gaius gestured to the book Morgana still held.

"Now let's get started on your first magic lesson, shall we? It will help to pass the time."

Morgana made her way back to her chambers about an hour later, tired but content. She hadn't felt like she'd made much progress, but Gaius seemed to think otherwise. He had praised her efforts and promised that she'd soon be able to see the results for herself.

She smiled, thinking how much her life had changed in the past three days. She wasn't alone anymore. She had four new confidantes and she was actually learning to use her magic. _I wish Merlin were still here_, she thought. She stopped suddenly in the middle of the hallway. _Where did that come from?_

Realizing she'd stopped awkwardly, she resumed walking towards her chambers, grateful no one else had been in the corridor. _Yes, Merlin knew about her magic, but wasn't it better that she had Gaius now?_ He could actually help her.

_But Merlin helped, too. He was the first one to care_, she thought.

Why did that matter so much to her? Merlin was just a servant.

Wasn't he?

Then why did she notice his absence so acutely the past two days? Was it because she was worried about Arthur and the two were practically inseparable?

_No_, she reluctantly admitted as she reached her chambers. _It was more than that._

But she didn't have a chance to ponder that further. As she reached to open her chamber door, the door flew open and she nearly ran into a flustered Gwen, who came rushing out.

"Oh, excuse me, milady!" Gwen exclaimed. "I heard in the kitchens that you were unwell and had gone to see Gaius, but...well...you were gone so long I was just coming to look for you. It's not serious, I hope?"

"Headaches again, I'm afraid," Morgana said loudly enough for any potential eavesdroppers.

She quickly ushered Gwen into her chambers and shut the door. Leaning back against it, she explained with a cheeky grin that would have made a certain servant proud, "Gaius is teaching me how to control my magic so I don't set anything else on fire."

"And the headaches are just an excuse," Gwen returned the smile.

"Precisely."

Gwen's smile faltered as she appeared to remember something.

"No word from Emrys?"

Morgana sighed. "Nothing yet. It's hard to know if he's even received my message yet."

Gwen put on a brave smile. "Don't worry, my lady. I'm sure Emrys will take care of them."

Gwen's words triggered the memory of Merlin's parting words: _It's okay. I'll take care of him._

_Merlin does take care of Arthur, even if Arthur would never admit it_, Morgana thought. _Emrys said he would take care of Arthur...but will Emrys take care of Merlin, too?_

Morgana found herself praying to whoever would listen that Emrys would do exactly that.

**A/N: So what do y'all think? How do you feel about Morgana and her many musings? :)**


	22. Chapter 22: Midnight Message

**A/N: Oh wow! So many reviews! I am floored by how many people took the time to leave feedback just since yesterday! I promise I'll reply to all of you individually tomorrow (it's already really late here and I want to give each reply the time it deserves). I will also reply to the extensive guest reviews I received today in tomorrow's chapter A/N since I can't PM them. :)**

**Anyway, thanks for making me feel so special! Here's chapter 22! I'm sorry it's a bit short, but it was the logical place to break the scene. Tomorrow's chapter should pick up approx where this one leaves off and will cover Aredian's arrival back in Camelot with Elyan in tow…**

**On with the fic! (I love saying that.)**

Chapter 22: Midnight Message

Morgana smiled to herself as she walked through the empty corridors back to her chambers the following evening. Nearly everyone—including the servants-had already retired for the night, so the hallways were still and shadowy in the flickering light of the torches that lined the passage walls. She had met with Gaius for her second magic lesson tonight and had been pleasantly surprised that it had gone even better than last night's. There had still been no word from Emrys, but Gaius was right as usual. Magic lessons were a soothing distraction from the worries of waiting.

Morgana entered her empty chambers, as she'd allowed Gwen to go home early rather than wait up for her. She heard a tapping noise as soon as she closed her door behind her. She glanced up, startled. The merlin had returned and was tapping impatiently on her window pane. She ran to the window and flung it open, heedless of the gust of chilly night air that swirled in along with the bird. With trembling hands, she shut the window before taking and unrolling the message.

_Lady Morgana,_

_Thank you for your timely warning; it saved Arthur's life. Arthur and his party were indeed ambushed last night after arriving in Glastonbury. The prince and his servant escaped; however, the Druid girl Freya perished at Halig's hand. _

Morgana felt tears well up in her eyes from a mixture of relief and sadness. Merlin and Arthur were safe-she was eternally grateful to Emrys for protecting them both-but an innocent woman had still died. Though she'd barely known the young Druid, the memory of their brief interaction two nights prior surfaced, the girl's kind eyes etched into her consciousness. _Halig is a monster! _She cursed to herself. The next line made her blood freeze.

_Halig is dead. I saw to that myself._

Emrys had killed a man in retribution and admitted it bluntly. Morgana could feel the cold fury in those words. To be honest, it terrified her. She hated Halig for his cruelty, but could she have killed him if that had been in her power? _I honestly don't know_. She forced herself to move past that to the next line.

_Elyan risked his life to allow Arthur to escape. I have not been able to discern his fate. Please prepare Guinevere for the worst. Tell her his conduct would have put the bravest and noblest knights to shame._

Morgana's hand flew to her mouth. _Poor Gwen!_

_The prince and his servant have heard of a man in the Perilous Lands who may be of assistance to them. They ride for the Perilous Lands tonight. The journey will likely take several days, possibly longer. I will keep you informed of their progress as often as I can._

_Give my regards to Gaius. Stay safe, Lady Morgana._

_For the love of Camelot,_

_Emrys_

Morgana sat down in a chair by the fire for a moment, lost in thought.She had desperately wanted news, but this was almost too much to process. _What could possibly compel Arthur to travel through the Perilous Lands? _Morgana knew that few who ventured there ever returned. _And how do I break the news to Gwen? _She got up and, folding the message into her pocket and telling the bird to wait, retraced her steps to Gaius' chambers. _Maybe Gaius should be the one to tell her. _ One final question kept creeping into her thoughts throughout the long walk through the dimly lit corridors. _What sort of man is Emrys, really?_

**A/N: So what'd you think? Morgana's interactions with the mysterious Emrys are getting more complicated and pushing her muddled thoughts of Merlin to the back of her mind even as her interactions with Gaius are settling into a new and comfortable routine…should keep things interesting, right? ;)**


	23. Chapter 23: Worried

**A/N: Holy cow! SO MANY REVIEWS! AND FAVS & FOLLOWS! *does a happy dance…then replies to everyone individually* I love you all. Seriously. Digital cupcakes for everyone, on the house! ;)**

**To the couple of guest reviewers I couldn't send a PM to:**

**The-Guest-Reviewer-Later-Identified-As-**_**Nance**_**: Thank you SOOO much for reviewing like .chapter! I reeeally wish you had a profile and accepted PMs because I'd love to respond individually/in more detail. As it is, unless I want to have a word count on this chapter that would make even Tolstoy jealous, I'm gonna have to keep my remarks brief: I reeeally appreciate all your compliments/encouragement! I'm glad you liked the merlin hawk…I think that was my husband's favorite part of that chapter, too, haha! I appreciate your compliment about Freya's characterization…I completely agree with you. In chapter 18, I actually agree with you about the laugh thing…I think I was not exactly picturing full-out laughter…I will go back and edit that to better convey what I had in mind. :/ Again I really appreciate you taking the time to review so thoroughly—it makes my writer-heart so happy! (Now please get an account so I can send you PMs for any future reviews, haha!)**

**Two guests reviewed ch 20 (not sure which one was **_**Nance**_**'s review): I'm glad you liked the Perilous Lands twist! Gwaine just might be making an appearance soon, but I'm not giving anything else away yet…**

_**DragonQueen**_**: Thanks for reviewing! I'm really glad (and flattered) that you like what I've done with the plot twists! :)**

**Ok, on with the fic! I'd meant to get to the Elyan/Gwen reunion in this chapter…but it didn't happen, partly because it's really late and I'm super-tired. Soon, I promise!**

Chapter 23: Worried

Gaius paced back and forth in his chambers after Morgana left for the second time that night. She had brought him Emrys' latest message. They had each written a reply this time. He sealed his own with magic, before casting the spell over both replies so that all Morgana had to do was attach them to the merlin and it would know to take them back to _the_ Merlin.

"I don't doubt that soon you'll have enough mastery over your magic to do this messenger spell for yourself," he had told her encouragingly before she left, staying calm and positive while she was present. He had agreed to her request that he be the one to break the news to Gwen, but they decided he should wait until the morning to do so.

Now he paced. He should be asleep. He definitely needed the sleep. Furthermore, pacing wasn't typical behavior for him. _Pacing's the sort of thing Merlin would do...all that energy! But this could be serious_, he thought to himself. _Merlin isn't a heartless killer...yet his message made him almost sound like one._ Something wasn't right. He could feel it, almost the way he could feel Merlin's magical signature when he held Emrys' messages. He hoped against hope that Merlin would be forthcoming in his reply to Gaius' questions. Something had clearly happened between the lines. _Oh, my boy_, Gaius thought, _what's happened to you?_

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Once outside Ealdor, Arthur turned to Merlin. "How far is it to Carmarthen?"

Merlin shrugged. "About a day's ride."

Arthur just stared incredulously at him. "That's considered a _neighboring_ village around here? You seriously can't get a sword anywhere closer?"

"Nope!" Merlin replied sarcastically. "We didn't all grow up with a royal blacksmith at our beck and call."

Arthur was silent for a moment, appropriately chastised. Then he continued as if nothing had happened. "All right, we'll ride until an hour before dawn, then make camp. We should have enough time to rest and still reach Carmarthen before the smithy closes up for the evening."

They did as Arthur had decided, only pausing briefly to water the horses as they passed a couple of streams. They made camp in the woods half a league from Carmarthen but didn't even attempt a fire. It would soon be light out and it was still quite warm, though autumn's chill was growing stronger by the day. Merlin took the first watch, while Arthur curled up in his dark cloak against a wide, old oak tree.

Merlin listened to Arthur's breathing as it settled into an even rhythm. The sun was rising, casting colorful patterns and shadows across the forest floor. Merlin heard a rustling in the trees and immediately stiffened, his magic on full alert.

From the source of the rustling, the little merlin swooped into sight, bearing a message tied to each leg. Merlin rose to meet it. The hawk perched, calm and docile, on his arm as he strode just out of sight so that Arthur wouldn't accidentally wake and see what he was doing. He unfurled each of the messages. The merlin flew up to perch on a nearby branch and await further instructions. Merlin read Morgana's message first.

_Emrys,_

_I am forever grateful that you protected Arthur and Merlin. Both of them are dear to me. I am sorry for the loss of the Druid Freya. She was a kind soul._

Merlin wiped an unbidden tear from his eye. _Yes...yes, she was._ His mind only half-registered that Morgana had considered him "dear" to her, but sheer emotional fatigue forced him to file it away to deal with later.

_Gaius will break the news about Elyan to Gwen first thing in the morning. Please do let us know if you find out what has become of him._

_Gaius has begun to tutor me in controlling my magic, and Kilgarrah has agreed to teach me about Seeing._

_I admit I fear for Arthur and Merlin as they venture into the Perilous Lands. Gaius and Kilgarrah speak so highly of you, of both your power and your loyalty to the prophecy. Please, I beg you, watch over them on their journey to the Perilous Lands._

_Morgana_

Merlin laughed bitterly to himself. _They won't think so highly of me after what I've done_, he thought. _I killed for revenge-not once, but twice._

The magic seal on Gaius' note dissolved at a single touch from Merlin's fingers. He unrolled the message.

_My dear boy,_

_I hope against hope that you are well. I worry for you and Arthur-but especially for you. From your last message, I can tell something is wrong. What is it, Merlin? There is more happening than your message stated, I am certain._

_You will be pleased to know that I am tutoring Morgana about her magic. Kilgarrah says that destiny has shifted. You and Arthur are still bound to one another-that part of the prophecy is unchanged-but Morgana's path is newly undecided, although she is bound to Emrys for better or for worse, apparently. Kilgarrah and I agree that it is best to aid Morgana in developing and controlling her abilities and supporting her as destiny solidifies around her. I am confident you agree, given your determination to include Morgana and Gwen in these messages despite the former prophecies._

_My boy, if there is anything I can do for you, know that I will gladly do it-you need only ask._

_Gaius_

Merlin charmed the messages to appear blank except to his touch and folded them gently into his new jacket's pocket. His brow furrowed and he stood deep in thought for several long moments. Eventually, he conjured two scraps of parchment from the bark of a nearby sycamore and hurriedly wrote, as before, with a magically charred twig. He sealed the reply to Gaius with a spell and attached both messages to the legs of the little falcon who had returned to him when he was ready to send the messages. The falcon swooped out of sight, high into the trees, winging its way rapidly toward Camelot.


	24. Chapter 24: Most Wanted

**A/N: Milestones galore! Surpassed 20,000 words AND 20,000 views! Over 175 reviews, over 60 favs, and over 130 followers. Y'all, there are no words for how encouraged I feel. Thank you!**

**To guest reviewer **_**Nance**_**: I still can't send you a PM. Sad, sad day. I'm really pleased you liked the characterizations in ch 23. I'm implementing your suggestions for the merlin hawk in today's chapter ;) I hope you like it!**

Chapter 24: Most Wanted

Just after lunch, Morgana stood deep in thought, staring out her window into the courtyard below. Gaius had gone to break the news to Gwen first thing in the morning. When Gwen had arrived for work, Morgana could tell she had been crying. _I would have been surprised if she hadn't_, she thought sadly. _After all, Elyan was all the family she had left._

Morgana subconsciously wrapped her arms around herself. _And I know what it's like to lose all the family you have_.

Just then, a sudden flurry of movement in the courtyard jolted her out of her pensive introspection. A group of soldiers on horseback came riding in, led by Aredian. The initial flare of anger Morgana felt morphed suddenly into hope when she noticed an unfamiliar figure, bound and secured unceremoniously on horseback. _Elyan?_ His dark complexion and his shackled hands made Morgana hope against hope that she was right.

"Gwen!" She turned from the window and called desperately across the chambers. "Gwen! Look!"

"What is it, milady?" Gwen asked, dropping her armful of linens on the bed and hurrying over to Morgana. She followed Morgana's intense line of sight.

"Elyan!" She cried in disbelief, tears of joy immediately streaming down her face.

_Captive is definitely better than dead_, Morgana agreed, tears welling up in her own eyes. _At least he still has a chance._

Gwen turned to rush for the door, but Morgana grabbed her arm to stop her.

"Don't do something you'll regret!" she said firmly. "You have a better chance of helping him if Uther doesn't know he's your brother." _And you'll be safer as well._

"Oh," was all Gwen could manage through her tears, though Morgana could tell from the look in her wide eyes that she grasped the full implications of Morgana's warning. "Then we need a plan, milady."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Aredian strode into the king's council chambers, followed closely by the exhausted soldiers. They dragged Elyan after them. Morgana sat next to Uther, who rose to greet Aredian. As she took in the sight of Elyan-bruised, scorched, and bloodied-she was glad she'd insisted that Gwen not attend her at this meeting.

"What news, Aredian?" Uther demanded. "Have you found the traitors yet?"

"We had Arthur and his servant within our grasp, but they had a Druid helping them, who attacked us violently with magic." He paused dramatically before announcing, "Halig is dead."

Morgana tried to feign a look of surprise to mimic the one she saw Gaius affect to match the rest of the council members.

Aredian waited for the shocked murmuring to die down before continuing, "This blacksmith was caught sheltering the three traitors. He attacked your soldiers when they tried to arrest the prince."

Uther's eyes flashed deadly fire at those words. "He is no longer a prince!" he roared. "He has betrayed the crown and the kingdom and is forthwith stripped of his title!"

He raised himself to his full height and spoke forcefully. "I declare Arthur Pendragon, formerly Crown Prince of Camelot, a traitor to the crown, guilty of high treason for consorting with sorcerers with the intent to bring down the kingdom. I offer a reward for his capture, _dead or alive_." As Morgana suppressed a shiver, she saw his eyes flicker to where Elyan knelt, shackled, on the flagstones between two soldiers.

Uther continued, "Anyone caught aiding the traitor Arthur, his two accomplices, or the sorcerer Emrys will be interrogated and sentenced to death." He waved dismissively. "Take him to the dungeons."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Morgana went to see Gaius in his chambers as soon as the meeting ended. Gwen-anticipating her plans as usual-was already waiting for them when they arrived.

"What is to become of Elyan?" she asked bravely as soon as the door shut behind them.

Gaius returned her frankness, "He is to be interrogated then executed. I'm sorry, Gwen."

Gwen sank slowly onto the bench by the table. She didn't cry. She simply looked up at them and said, "All right, what do we do next?"

"First things first," Gaius stated matter-of-factly, "I will tend to Elyan's injuries. He is clearly weak from his ordeal."

Gwen nodded. _She's handling this remarkably well_, Morgana thought, once again in awe of the way her friend could bravely choose to remain calm no matter how extreme the circumstances.

Morgana raised a mischievous eyebrow and looked at both of them. "And then, I just might have a plan that could work."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Morgana sat alone in her room that evening, waiting for Gwen to return from her mission. Gaius had gone to the dungeons. Gwen had insisted that he take her with him to "assist" him in treating Elyan's injuries so that she could see her brother without raising suspicion. _They've been gone for nearly an hour, _Morgana thought as she rose and began to pace back and forth.

_I hate waiting_, she thought. _I'd much rather be _doing _something to help!_

She sighed. She was well aware that the plan she'd come up with would require a lot of waiting on her part, but they had agreed it was the best plan they could devise at the moment. However, Gaius had sagely suggested that, rather than putting it into action immediately, they consult Emrys and Kilgarrah first.

_Gaius will speak to Kilgarrah later tonight_, Morgana thought. _Now I just have to wait and hope that the merlin shows up again tonight with a message from Emrys so I can write to him for advice._

She was beginning to lose heart and think that no message was coming tonight when she heard a faint tapping at her window. She rushed to the window and opened it, shivering slightly. The night air was truly cold tonight-autumn was making its presence known. The little merlin sat on her windowsill, feathers all fluffed up against the biting chill. It gratefully hopped inside and waited patiently while she retrieved both messages.

_The poor bird looks exhausted_, Morgana thought sadly, _I think it's been the same bird every time-Emrys and I are running the poor thing ragged._

Aloud, Morgana chuckled and sized up the bird. "If I'm going to be seeing you every evening, then you'd best have a name."

The little merlin tilted its head to one side as though understanding what she was saying.

"I think I'll call you...Ambrosius. Yes, I think it suits you."

Ambrosius chirped in approval then flew across the room to help himself to a sip from the water pitcher on the sideboard.

"Well, Ambrosius, let's see what Emrys has to say tonight."

She tried to open the first message. It wouldn't unroll, as though bound by an invisible cord.

_That must be the reply to Gaius' message...probably only he can open it._

She set it aside and picked up the second message and unfurled it, reading eagerly.

_Lady Morgana,_

_It is my honor-as well as my destiny-to defend the Once and Future King, and I will continue to do so, no matter the cost. I am sorry, but I have heard no further news of Elyan._

_I am pleased that you are studying with Gaius. He is a wise man and an excellent mentor. I trust you will progress rapidly under his tutelage. How are your lessons going so far? I trust Kilgarrah is treating you well. His advice can be frustratingly vague, but I doubt you could find a better teacher to help you develop your Sight._

_Please give my regards to Gwen and the second message to Gaius._

_For the love of Camelot,_

_Emrys_

Morgana sighed and sat down on the edge of her bed. Ambrosius finished his drink of water and flew over to perch near her on the footboard, fluffing up his feathers and chirping happily before appearing to doze off.

"I don't know what to think," Morgana thought aloud to the napping falcon. "Today's message was so...well, conversational, but yesterday's described violent revenge. Is he, I don't know, _imbalanced_?"

Ambrosius made what sounded like a bemused chirping sound before tucking his head under his wing.

"All right, I'll let you sleep in peace," Morgana chuckled. She stood up and put the message for Gaius in the pocket of her dark blue gown. "I need to take this to Gaius. Then why don't I sneak down to the kitchens and try to find a bite for you?"

She smiled as the bird let out an enthusiastic but muffled chirp, his head still tucked securely under his wing.

She exited her chambers quietly, leaving a sleeping Ambrosius peacefully perched on her bed frame.

**A/N: Do y'all like Ambrosius? I really hope so!**

**I do want to take a quick poll…I'm not sure I'm very enthusiastic about including Lancelot in this fic…just wasn't ever very enthusiastic about him in the series. Problem is, I'm getting closer and closer to the point where I'll have to decide whether to include him or not. So my question is: Is there anyone out there who strongly objects to him either a) not making an appearance at all or b) if he has to make an appearance, only showing up briefly and then leaving (or dying?) to simply allow for Percival's intro into the story? Thanks! (Sorry to any Lancelot enthusiasts out there, but I just spent most of his screen time being annoyed about his love triangle with Gwen and Arthur.)**


	25. Chapter 25: Disturber of the Peace

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! If you can receive PMs, I've already sent you a reply…if you can't, I've replied to you in the author's note at the end of this chapter.**

**WARNINGS: Along with fight sequences, this chapter contains mentions of alcohol, carousing, and tobacco usage. Tobacco is a carcinogen, kids. So don't smoke/chew and please drink legally and responsibly. :) **

**Disclaimer: Just like I don't own BBC's Merlin, I sadly don't own the lyrics to the drinking song in this chapter…it's a traditional/anonymous Irish song, though, so I don't think it's copyrighted ;)**

**Ok, now that we've cleared that up, on with the fic!**

Chapter 25: Disturber of the Peace

Back in his chambers after assessing and treating Elyan's injuries, Gaius unrolled Merlin's most recent message.

_Gaius,_

_It's good to hear from you. No, I'm not all right. Freya was special and when Halig attacked her-well, it was like what happened with Nimueh. I didn't even think. I just wanted him to burn for what he did to her._

_What do I do, Gaius? I feel like a monster-because I don't regret that he's dead._

_Merlin_

"Oh, my boy," Gaius breathed. He folded the note into a pocket in his over-robe and wrinkled his brow in thought as he hurried down into the bowels of the darkened castle to see Kilgarrah.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

After a good rest in Morgana's chambers and a midnight snack from the kitchens, Ambrosius was off again, bearing two new messages as he winged his way through the blustery night, tracing Merlin's glowing blue-and-gold magical signature. It shone brightly, even many leagues away, like a lighthouse in a storm. With luck and a strong tailwind, he should reach Merlin by dawn.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Earlier that afternoon, Arthur and Merlin broke camp and headed into Carmarthen to purchase swords. After asking directions in the town square outside the only tavern, they found the blacksmith, who sold them two sturdy and acceptably well-balanced swords for a reasonable price without asking any questions.

"We'll have to be careful," Merlin muttered to Arthur as they walked back through the town to where they'd tethered their horses outside the tavern.

"Why's that? He didn't sound like he suspected anything out of the ordinary."

"It's a small town-not as small as Ealdor, but the people here still talk. Strangers who ride through, don't stay the night, and only purchase swords are definitely going to attract attention."

"Hmm," was all Arthur said.

They walked in silence until they reached the horses. Instead of mounting up and heading out like Merlin expected, Arthur paused and turned to him.

"I don't often say this, Merlin, but I think you've got a point. Much as I'd like to keep moving, if we stay here for the night or at least have a drink in the tavern before heading out, we'll have a better chance of spreading a cover story in case Aredian and Halig come looking for us."

Merlin stiffened at the casual mention of Halig.

"What's wrong, Merlin?"

"...Nothing." He busied himself checking the girth on his saddle, hoping Arthur would drop the subject. He wasn't that lucky.

"No, Merlin, it's something. Spill." This time it was an order.

Merlin sighed. "Halig is...dead."

"How do you know?"

Merlin grasped frantically for a suitable explanation. He couldn't say it was Elyan; anyone who saw Halig's body would know the cause of death was magical. As unlikely as it was, he couldn't risk someone contradicting his lie to Arthur. He picked the only viable alternative, as much as it pained him to say it.

"...Freya...lashed out. With her magic. I mean, when he attacked her," Merlin fidgeted. "He's definitely dead."

Arthur groaned. "Great, I'm sure my father's going to hear about that-there goes my chances of proving my innocence in this whole Emrys business."

Merlin fumed but said nothing. _Of course the prat only thinks about himself._

Arthur resumed their original conversation, oblivious to Merlin's stewing mood.

"Come on, _Mer_lin, we're wasting daylight. Let's just settle for a quick meal in the tavern and head out again tonight."

Arthur led the way into the tavern. He leaned over and muttered to Merlin just before pushing open the door, "You come up with the cover story. You have a better sense of what these people will believe."

The tavern was dark but not uncomfortable. A ghost of a smile crossed Merlin's face as he looked around the familiar room. He and Will had snuck in here periodically as teenagers, any time their mothers had sent them by themselves to get tools sharpened. _Will certainly could hold his liquor_, Merlin thought, remembering the way Will always teased him about being a lightweight. He was relieved to see that the establishment had apparently changed hands sometime in the past two years. _Lessens the odds of being recognized considerably._

A commotion on the far side of the room caught his attention. A man with shaggy brown hair-clearly inebriated-was standing on a chair, holding a tankard and singing. Loudly. Merlin recognized the classic drinking song instantly-he might not admit it, but he'd sung it with Will a time or two. _Or several_, he thought to himself with a grin.

The long-haired man was hitting his stride in the chorus, his full-throated singing betraying a lilting accent:

_And it's all for me grog, me jolly, jolly grog _

_All for me beer and tobacco _

_Well, I spent all me tin on the lassies drinking gin _

_Across the western ocean I must wander _

"Everybody now!" the long-haired man cheered before launching into the next verse as a few other equally-sloshed patrons joined him.

_Ohhh- where are me boots, me noggin, noggin boots _

_They're all gone for beer and tobacco _

_For the heels, they are worn out, and the toes are kicked about _

_And the soles are looking out for better weather _

Merlin waited as Arthur continued to stand awkwardly in the doorway while the intoxicated singers continued. A moment later, a harried barmaid hurried up to them.

"There's a table over 'ere, lads," she gestured with her head for them to follow her. She followed their gaze to the man leading the raucous singing.

"Don't pay him no mind, now, lads," she lowered her voice conspiratorially, "He's been officially labeled a disturber of the peace."

As they sat, she asked, "Now, what'll it be? 'Ouse special's a beef and ale stew."

Arthur answered, "Two pints and-"

She interrupted him, "My, aren't you a 'andsome fella."

Arthur shrugged smugly, "Well, you wouldn't be the first to say so."

"No, sorry, I meant your friend 'ere," she gestured to Merlin.

Merlin simply grinned at Arthur's slack jawed expression. "Um, thanks," he replied.

The barmaid smiled at Merlin, "I'm Gwendolyn-call me Lynn, all right? Just shout if you need anything."

"Two pints and two specials," Arthur ordered sullenly before Lynn rushed off to attend to another rowdy table.

"I'd forgotten how much I like this place," Merlin remarked, still grinning as he watched Lynn bustle about the room.

"Merlin?"

"Yes, Arthur?"

"Shut up."

"Shutting up," Merlin agreed.

Lynn proved to be incredibly efficient. Their food arrived while the men were still singing the same song. _This one does have a lot of verses, though_, Merlin mused.

Unfortunately, neither man got to enjoy the meal or the ale. Just then, a pair of rather burly men strode up to their table and addressed them.

"Now, what kind of men ride into town just to buy swords without so much as leaving a name?" the first man remarked to the second.

"Maybe they'll be so kind as to tell us," the second replied, crossing his arms threateningly.

Arthur glanced at Merlin. Merlin clearly his throat awkwardly.

"Um, I'm Will and this is my friend...Leon," he began. "We're on our way to enlist in Cenred's army."

Arthur nearly choked on his ale. Merlin ploughed ahead anyway.

"And we can't enlist without swords, can we?" he added with a cheeky grin.

The first man's eyes narrowed. "I don't believe you, boy," he growled.

The second man pulled out a hunting knife from his belt and embedded the point in the table. The thud somehow carried over the singing. Silence fell abruptly and all eyes turned toward them.

"See, there's talk that Prince Arthur of Camelot's on the run with his servant, and you two happen to fit the bill mighty well," the second man snarled.

"I'll bet there's a goodly reward for anyone what brings this lot to either Uther or Cenred," the first man mused. "Just think what I could do with all that gold."

A new voice cut in from behind the burly men. "Am I interrupting something, gentlemen?"

All four men turned to see the long-haired drunk, still holding his tankard. He looked at Merlin.

"You two have got yourselves in a bit of pickle, haven't you?"

The second burly man glared at the drunk. "If you don't want to join them, you'd best bow out now, mate."

"You're probably right," the drunk said, handing his half-full tankard to the man.

Then he threw the first punch, smashing the man squarely in the nose.

Chaos erupted. The fight escalated until nearly everyone in the establishment was throwing or dodging punches. Tankards were emptied over heads. Chairs were smashed and used as blunt, splinter-barbed clubs. Hair and beards were yanked. Kicking abounded, with some biting thrown in for good measure. And as always, there was a tremendous amount of shouting.

Between punches, the drunk yelled to Merlin, "Name's Gwaine, by the way."

Gwaine picked up Arthur's untouched tankard and drained it before using it as a projectile.

"Couldn't let it go to waste," he shrugged, before ducking another punch.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted over the chaos. "Out! Now!"

Merlin and Arthur made a break for the door. Gwaine followed close behind, slamming the tavern door shut behind them as they ran out into the brisk evening. All three leapt onto their horses and followed Merlin's lead, racing out of town.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The three men didn't stop until they were certain no one had tried to follow them out of Carmarthen. Slowing to a halt, they dismounted in a small clearing next to a stream. By then, night had fallen properly; stars winked at them through the gaps in the branches overhead.

Gwaine tethered his horse before hobbling slowly to the edge of the stream and flopping down.

"You're injured!" Merlin exclaimed.

"Naw, just a scratch," Gwaine brushed aside his concern. "Now, since it looks like I'm stuck with you, mind telling me what you lads are really up to? I know a lie when I hear one."

Arthur sighed. "I'm Prince Arthur of Camelot and this is my servant, Merlin."

Gwaine let out a throaty laugh. "No, really, mate, who are you?"

Arthur glared at him.

"You're serious?" Gwaine stared at Arthur, then swung around to Merlin for confirmation. "He's pulling my leg, right?"

"Sadly, no," Merlin grinned.

"Right, well," Gwaine said, apparently still trying to process this new information, "Since I'm not likely welcome back in Carmarthen any time soon, you'd best tell me where we're headed now."

**A/N: Anyone catch the Lord of the Rings reference in this chapter? ;)**

**In case anyone's interested, the idea of Merlin's glowing magical signature was inspired by a beautifully drawn piece of fan art I stumbled across on Pinterest the other day. I imagine that this is what Ambrosius sees when he looks at Merlin. Here's a link to the original, posted by the artist (just take out the spaces): alexandarcho .deviantart art/ So-you-wanna-play-with-magic- 440 242 462**

**Guest review replies:**

_**Nance: **_**I'm glad you like Ambrosius! :) The consensus on Lancelot is to include him as a confidante for Merlin but not to include the love triangle, which is a compromise I can totally live with! So be on the look-out for Lancelot & Percival several chapters down the road…**

_**Guest**_**: I know, right? I had fun coming up with that, and I'm glad you like it, too!**

_**Squaredplant**_**: The first instance I can remember (hence referencing it in the fic) is the incident with Nimueh. I'm differentiating, too, for what it's worth, between Merlin killing someone in a fight to save Arthur (like a bandit with a falling branch or magically rebounding arrow) and intentionally slaughtering someone as an emotional/instinctive response to seeing them hurt him or someone he cares about. (So Agravaine would be in the latter category.)**


	26. Chapter 26: Strength and Magic

**A/N: I'm so sorry I didn't post this last night! *cringes as rotten tomatoes are thrown* I won't make a long excuse, but it was one of those days when other life stuff took priority (my husband left early this morning for a military training exercise so I wanted to spend as much time yesterday with him as I could). **

**Anyway, point is, I do really try to update daily, so if I miss a day, please know it's either because I have a legit reason or because I really felt like I needed the extra day to edit the chapter to make it worth reading. :)**

**Thanks for all the kind and enthusiastic reviews! I'll respond to y'all individually later today…wanted to get this posted first. I'm so pleased y'all are as happy as I am about Gwaine's arrival in this fic. I hope you enjoy this chapter even more!**

Chapter 26: Strength and Magic

"The Perilous Lands? Now I _know_ you lads are pulling my leg," Gwaine stared at Arthur.

"'Fraid not," Arthur shrugged.

"Fine, suppose I believe you. Care to tell me _why_?" Gwaine crossed his arms, looking from Merlin to Arthur and back again.

Arthur started to explain, but Gwaine interrupted, "Not you. Him."

He jerked his head in Merlin's direction, adding to Arthur, "I don't trust nobles."

Merlin glanced at a shocked Arthur for his grudging permission, then quickly recounted the pertinent events from Arthur's imprisonment to the incident in Carmarthen. _Well, all the pertinent non-magical events, anyway, _he thought.

There was a long pause as Gwaine seemed to mull over Merlin's tale. Finally, he addressed Arthur.

"I don't care one bit about your little fight with daddy, Princess," Gwaine raised a hand to prevent Arthur's protests, "But Merlin here seems like a decent chap, so I'll do you a favor and come along. You'll need my help."

Arthur bit back a retort to Gwaine's insolence. Merlin, on the other hand, couldn't contain his curiosity. "Need your help? How, exactly?"

"If you're going to the Perilous Lands, you'll need a guide who's been there before."

"Like you?" Merlin asked, understanding slowly dawning.

"Like me," Gwaine confirmed with a grin.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The three men rode through the night, wanting to put as much distance as possible between them and the danger in Carmarthen. They made camp an hour before dawn in the forest at the southern edge of the Northern Plains. Gwaine informed them it was still a day-and-a-half ride to cross the plains before they reached the edge of the Perilous Lands. Arthur decided it would be best to wait and cross the plains under the cover of night.

Merlin, as usual, volunteered for the first watch, in secret hope of receiving a message by falcon around dawn. There was still no need for a fire during the warm autumn days, so after a quick meal of dried meat and bread, Arthur and Gwaine passed out on their bedrolls, leaving Merlin alone with his thoughts.

He loved the early morning stillness, when no one was watching him and he could simply enjoy the magic pulsing in the world around him. It was as refreshing as a good night's sleep to open up his own magic to the world's and feel it flowing into his. _Kilgarrah's right-I'm a creature of magic, much like he is_, Merlin thought as he sighed in contentment.

But he also hated keeping watch alone. When Arthur was awake and now especially with impish Gwaine making small talk, Merlin managed to shield himself in jocular normalcy. Now, though, there was nothing to keep his dark thoughts at bay. Memories of Freya flitted through his mind's eye, punctuated by flashes of Halig burning and Nimueh destroyed. His grief and anger would mingle until he couldn't tell where one emotion ended and the other began. Just when the flood of emotion threatened to drown him, Freya's parting words would float to the surface, like a balm on his wounded heart. _Don't let bitterness consume you_, she had said._ Let go, but don't forget me._

_But how? _Merlin would ask the ghost of a memory.

But there was never any answer.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

An hour before Merlin's watch was supposed to end, he felt, rather than saw, the merlin hawk arrive and begin to circle overhead. He jumped up to hurry out of sight of his sleeping companions-_Just to be safe_-and promptly tripped over his own feet. Merlin hit the ground with an _oomph_ and froze, checking to see if he'd woken them. Arthur was still snoring-_No change there_-and Gwaine simply muttered something and rolled over. _That was close_. He got up quietly and snuck out of the clearing before allowing the falcon to perch on his outstretched left arm. He unrolled Morgana's message first.

_Emrys,_

_I have news of Elyan! The good news is that he is alive. The bad news is that he's currently in the king's dungeon, awaiting interrogation and eventual execution._

Merlin grinned. Elyan was alive! Granted, he wasn't a free man, but it was still better than dead. _And Uther's dungeons don't have the best retention record, anyway_, he thought with a smirk. He continued reading.

_Gwen, Gaius, and I have discussed possible plans to help him escape, but we wanted to ask for your advice before settling on a plan. Gaius is also going to ask Kilgarrah for suggestions. Elyan is weak from his injuries, so Uther has allowed Gaius to treat him solely because he doesn't want to risk Elyan dying before he can be thoroughly interrogated. Uther's heartlessness disgusts me. I long for the day when Arthur will be the king Camelot needs and you return magic to the land._

Merlin smiled. _So do I, Morgana,_ he thought._ So do I._

_Uther has disinherited Arthur, stripped him of his title, and offered a reward for his capture, dead or alive. Please watch out for him and Merlin, now more than ever._

_Not good, _Merlin thought. _Not good at all_.

_My lessons are going well. Gaius has so much wisdom and Kilgarrah has been kind if rather cryptic. He said that bothers you, too. Nice to know I'm not the only one._

Merlin stifled a laugh. The merlin cocked his head at him curiously.

_If you are reading this, then I trust Ambrosius has reached you safely. I look forward to his arrival each evening. We eagerly await your advice about how to help Elyan._

_Morgana_

Merlin was confused. "Who's Ambrosius?" he muttered. The merlin chirped enthusiastically.

"Oh!" Merlin laughed, "Is that you, now?"

Ambrosius chirped happily and fluffed up his feathers.

"Well, it suits you," Merlin remarked as he reached for Gaius' message.

"Merlin the bird-whisperer? Can't say I saw that coming," a voice announced from the other side of the clearing.

Merlin spun around to face the speaker so quickly that he dislodged Ambrosius from his arm, who squawked at the indignity before settling on a nearby branch. Gwaine stood about five paces away, leaning casually against an oak tree.

"Um, it isn't what it looks like…" Merlin sputtered, "I, um...dabble in falconry!"

Gwaine tipped his head to one side and raised an eyebrow. "I may be a scallawag, Merlin, but I'm not stupid. That bird brought you a message."

"...That's one of the many applications of falconry…" Merlin tried again, but Gwaine smiled and cut him off.

"Usually, I think that involves carrier pigeons, not hawks, and besides, you've been on the move constantly. There's no way it could have found you."

Merlin stared at him, fear building in his gut.

Gwaine continued, "Unless, of course, it had a more unconventional way to trace you."

Then the hammer fell.

"Merlin, I know magic when I see it. Now spill."

**A/N: Cliffhanger! Please don't hate me! ;) So what'd you think? Anything in particular you're hoping to see happen soon? I do try to accommodate reviewer suggestions when possible! ;)**


	27. Chapter 27: Truths and Lies

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, favs, and follows! :) I'm still feeling super-blessed. :) I'm sorry to say that I don't feel bad at all about the cliffhanger in the last chapter—I know, I'm a terrible person. ;) I've included my replies to guest reviews to ch 25 & 26 at the end of this chapter. :)**

**We left off with Gwaine announcing, **_**"Merlin, I know magic when I see it. Now spill."**_** How will Merlin respond? On with the fic! :D**

Chapter 27: Truths and Lies

Merlin just stared at Gwaine, every nerve on edge, like a caged animal ready to run.

Gwaine suddenly drew his sword. The _shick_ of the steel against the scabbard was deafening against the silence.

_This is the end_, Merlin thought with a gulp.

Gwaine plunged the sword into the ground and stepped back.

"There, now. I won't harm you. Now talk."

"Wait, what?" Merlin asked.

"I've been around enough to know magic's not the evil Uther claims it is," Gwaine said nonchalantly, then crossed his arms. "But if you want me to guide you and the Princess through the Perilous Lands, you'd better tell me what's really going on."

Merlin sighed. "It's a long story."

"And I've got the next watch-so you've got the last hour of yours and all of mine. Think that'll be enough?" He cracked a grin and sat down against the oak, still favoring his leg slightly.

_Probably not, if I told you everything_, Merlin thought as he sat as well. Aloud he acquiesced, "No, should be plenty."

Gwaine, for being such a chatterbox, proved a surprisingly good listener as Merlin unfolded a truncated version of his tale. He talked about having magic in Camelot and about believing that Arthur was the Once and Future King. He explained that the messages were from another unnamed but loyal magic user in Camelot, keeping him informed of Uther's plans. He described serving and protecting Arthur, but specifically neglected to mention his own role in the prophecy. _I'm not ready to be _that_ honest yet._

When he finished, Gwaine looked at him thoughtfully.

"And the Princess doesn't know?"

"No," Merlin agreed quickly, "Please don't tell him."

"'Course not. That's your secret to tell. Don't blame you for not trusting a noble, even if he's part of some prophecy."

"I do trust him," Merlin back pedaled.

"But you haven't told him," Gwaine countered.

"I will...some day," Merlin sighed. "I just don't think he's ready yet."

"Fair enough," Gwaine said, flicking a pebble across the ground with his fingers. "So do you actually know who Emrys from the prophecy is? I mean, seeing as you're both magical and interested in keeping Arthur alive? Seems like you'd have a lot to talk about."

Merlin froze. "Um...sorry, no."

Gwaine shrugged as though it didn't matter to him one way or another.

After an uncomfortable pause, Merlin changed the subject, "So why don't you trust nobles?"

"Because they're all the same-they use people and cast them aside." Gwaine rubbed the back of his neck. "See, my father was a knight."

Merlin looked at him surprise.

"Honest truth," Gwaine held up his hands in a gesture of sincerity. "In Caerleon's army. Died in battle, leaving my mother penniless. When she appealed to the king for help, he turned her away."

Gwaine snorted and leaned back against the tree trunk. "That's gratitude for you."

"So you didn't know him?" Merlin asked quietly.

"No," Gwaine said stiffly, then changed the subject. "So what's your father like? Does he have magic, too?"

"I'm not sure," Merlin admitted. "Never met him, either."

"What happened?"

"He left my mum before I was born...he was banished."

"By Uther?"

Merlin nodded stiffly.

"What had he done?"

"Nothing…he served the king."

Gwaine nodded in understanding, "The king turned against him…and still you want to serve his son?"

"Arthur's different," Merlin said emphatically.

"I'll believe it when I see it," Gwaine shrugged. "Well, your watch is up, mate. Why don't you deal with your bird and get some sleep?"

Merlin stood, brushed off his trousers, and allowed Ambrosius to perch again on his arm. He retrieved Gaius' message, skimmed it quickly, and penned two short replies while watching Gwaine's reaction out of the corner of his eye. Gwaine never moved from his spot on the ground. He didn't even look in the direction of his sword as he casually watched Merlin perform the simple magic. When Ambrosius was on his way again, Merlin paused and turned to Gwaine before returning to camp.

"Thanks," he said simply, then slipped through the trees to his bedroll.

But Merlin didn't fall asleep quickly. He lay there, mulling over the conversation and trying not to think about all the ways that things could go horribly wrong now that someone he barely knew had discovered his secret. He liked Gwaine well enough-the man seemed genuine under the roguish facade. But could he trust him with his life and, more importantly, with his destiny? Merlin sighed and rolled over. _I just don't know_.

When Gwaine came to wake Arthur for his shift in the middle of the afternoon, Merlin was still tossing and turning, trying unsuccessfully to relax. He jumped when he heard Gwaine enter the clearing.

"Relax, Merlin," Gwaine said quietly, "Everything's fine, promise. Get some sleep, mate."

It was only the sound of Gwaine's steady breathing as Arthur kept watch that finally lulled Merlin into a fitful slumber.

**A/N: What'd you think? :D**

**/\/\/\/\/\/\/\**

**Quick replies to two chapters' worth of guest reviews:**

**Ch 25:**

_**Guest #1: **_**Thanks for the kind and constructive review! :D**

_**Nance:**_** I'm glad you liked it! Thanks for the compliments!**

_**Guest #2:**_** I'm glad you're pleased! Thanks for the compliment—I've never personally participated in a tavern brawl, so I'm pleased to know that my description was still decent! ;)**

_**Violet**_**: Thanks so much! Hmm, tricky question—yes and no—Arthur will eventually know, but I'm not going to give anything else away now ;) You'll have to keep reading!**

**Ch 26:**

_**Guest #1: **_**Thanks for the review! I do think Merlin would still behave as Arthur's servant. Just because Arthur's on the run doesn't change who he is and what Merlin thinks of him. I'm sort of going off the way that Merlin continues to serve Arthur in 5x13 (spoiler warning?), even after Arthur knows who he really is and doesn't understand why Merlin's still serving him. If you want to check it out, here's a link (just take out the spaces) to the transcript of 5x13—it's about half to ¾ of the way through the very last episode: merlin. wikia wiki /Transcript :The _Diamond _of _the _Day Thanks again for reading and reviewing!**

_**Nance:**_** Thanks so much for your kind review! Your compliments mean a ton. I'm glad you feel that the writing is flowing well :) I liked your suggestions, but I've already got a different plan involving the wyverns…so I'll take the core of your suggestions and see if I can't find a way to work them in somewhere else ;) Thanks!**

_**Guest #2:**_** Thanks! ;) Hmm, maybe it is in nautical/military terms? I meant first watch in the sense that it was the first shift since they were sleeping during the day, dawn to dusk, and traveling at night. Is there a different term that'd be more accurate? Thanks!**


	28. Chapter 28: The Perilous Lands

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews/favs/follows! I replied to y'all individually when possible! To guest reviewer **_**Nance**_**: I'm not giving anything else away…but I do hope you'll enjoy the mischief in this chapter ;)**

**I present, for your literary entertainment, the adventures of the Questing Trio, featuring madrigals, cryptic encounters, and plenty of snark ;) Enjoy!**

Chapter 28: The Perilous Lands

Refreshed from napping while Merlin talked to Gwaine about his magic, Ambrosius soared high on the winds west towards Camelot. Now that Merlin was hugging the border, heading due north towards the Perilous Lands, he was actually closer to Camelot than he'd been during the past few days while they were fully across the border in Cenred's kingdom. If the winds held, Ambrosius should reach Morgana's chambers-which held the promise of supper and cozy sleep-shortly after nightfall. He flapped harder in eager anticipation.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Arthur woke Merlin and Gwaine just before sunset.

"Time to get moving. I want to get as close to the border of the Perilous Lands as possible by dawn."

Merlin groaned and rolled over, burying his face in his jacket-pillow and pulling his cloak-blanket closer. He felt as though he'd only just fallen into any sort of restful sleep.

"Clotpole," he muttered disagreeably.

"Now you know how I feel in the mornings, _Mer_lin," Arthur quipped. "Up. Now."

"Fine, prat," Merlin smiled as he rolled out of his cocoon and began packing up what little gear they had.

"Is he always in so lovely a mood in the mornings?" Gwaine chuckled.

Merlin rolled his eyes, "Who, him or me?"

"Both of you," Gwaine ducked as Arthur threw a feedbag at him in response.

Gwaine scooped it off the ground with an exaggerated flourish. "At your service, Princess," he grinned as he took the hint to tend to the horses.

Arthur rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut. _Hmm, he's making progress_, Merlin thought, concealing a smile.

They were on their way within fifteen minutes, riding across the windswept flatlands just as dusk settled over the land like a cloak. The breeze picked up and they pulled their cloaks tighter around them. It was a chilling reminder that autumn was fully upon them now, and winter wouldn't be far behind. To pass the time, Gwaine entertained them with story after story of his travels and, especially, his inebriated escapades.

About midnight, Merlin felt himself nodding off in the saddle.

"Hey, mate, can't have you falling overboard, now, can we?" Gwaine teased. "Better do something to liven things up a bit."

He thought for a moment. "Aha! Just the thing! Do you two know _Seven Drunken Nights_?"

Merlin grinned, "'Course I do." Merlin thought Arthur looked like he was sure he was going to regret that fact. _He probably will_, Merlin thought as Gwaine launched into the first line and he joined in.

Seven enthusiastic verses later, Arthur muttered, "Can we sing something _I_ know?"

"Like what, some boring court poetry?" Gwaine quipped.

Merlin laughed and joined the teasing, singing sarcastically, "_My bonny lass she smileth, when she my heart beguileth..._" A sudden image of Freya's smile flashed before his eyes and he trailed off, choking up.

Fortunately, Gwaine came to his rescue. "Naw, mate, you're doing it wrong. It really goes:

_My bonnie lass she smelleth_

_making the flowers Jealouth_

_Fa la la (etc.)_

_My bonny lass she looketh like a jewel_

_and sounded like a mule…_

Merlin saw Arthur try muffle a laugh at Gwaine's rendition-_For the sake of propriety_, Merlin thought, as the verses became less and less appropriate-which came out sounding like a snort. At the sound, Merlin couldn't contain his laughter anymore, either.

When Gwaine finally finished his rather unconventional version of the courtly madrigal, Arthur said, "Well, that was nice, but now it's time to hear a _real _musician." He cleared his throat in preparation.

Merlin interrupted with a snort, "Like you, _sire_? I've heard you sing before...even Gwen was at a loss for something complimentary to say."

"You're lucky there are no stocks here, _Mer_lin. I happen to have an excellent voice."

"I'll be the judge of that," Gwaine replied with a grin. "Let's hear it."

Arthur squeaked and cracked his way through a complicated ballad about some knight doing some brave deed and winning some fair maiden's hand. Gwaine clapped in mock applause when he finished. "Better stick to drinking songs, Princess," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "Matter of fact, here's one I should teach you…"

The three men passed the remainder of the night singing themselves hoarse as they rode under the wide, starry sky, not passing through so much as a village until dawn. Gwaine reined in his horse as a tiny village came into view on the horizon.

"That's Mold," he said. "Last scrap of civilization before the Perilous Lands, about two hours' ride north of there. If you want any supplies, this is your last chance."

Arthur nodded and looked over at Merlin in a silent question.

"Um, we could use some more dried provisions...unless there's easy game in the Perilous Lands."

Gwaine grunted in reply, then winced as he rubbed his leg. _Must still be hurting him_, Merlin thought.

"Then you'd best stock up now," Gwaine said, "Wyverns get most everything worth eating first."

"What are wyverns?" Merlin asked nervously, his eyes growing wide, confident from Gwaine's tone that he wasn't going to like the answer.

"Distant cousin of the dragon. Mean, scrappy, big teeth."

_Oh, great_, Merlin thought sarcastically. _Just what I need-more sarcastic overgrown lizards_.

Gwaine nudged his horse forward, adding more cheerfully, "I, for one, could do with one last tankard."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Never thought I'd come here again," Gwaine mused several hours later as they reigned in their horses and looked over the edge of the plateau of the Northern Plains into the rocky badlands beyond.

"Why not, exactly?" Merlin asked curiously.

"No taverns," Gwaine sighed mournfully.

They'd acquired extra supplies in Mold without much difficulty. Arthur, on Gwaine's advice, decided they would press on for most of the day since it was safer to travel by day than by night in the Perilous Lands. Gwaine had drunk his precious tankard and Merlin had bought more provisions before the three headed out again.

They picked their way down the steep slope from the plateau to the narrow band of forest separating them from where the Perilous Lands began in earnest. As they reached the bottom of the slope, Merlin spotted what looked like a bridge ahead with a small cookfire next to it. _I thought Gwaine said this area was uninhabited?_

"What's that?" Merlin asked, nodding in the direction of the bridge.

Gwaine and Arthur looked where he indicated.

_Wait, he wasn't there a moment ago_, Merlin thought suddenly. _Or maybe I'm even more tired that I thought. _There was a man, half Merlin's height, leaning against the railing of the bridge.

"Ah, Courage has arrived!" the stranger addressed Arthur directly. "Now tell me, why do you wish to cross my bridge?"

Arthur looked slightly taken aback.

"We seek a man called Balinor, rumored to dwell in the Perilous Lands."

"Ah, yes, the so-called Fisher King," the man replied with a knowing smile. "He has been waiting for you these many years."

"Who are you? I didn't meet you on my last journey here," Gwaine piped up, his tone tinged with suspicion.

"I'm Grettir, Keeper of the Bridge. I only wish to see the Fisher King's lands restored and prosperity reign again. Until the Prophecy is fulfilled, this cannot happen."

"What Prophecy?" Merlin pounced on the mention of the word.

Grettir smiled at him. _So, Magic has arrived_, Grettir projected into Merlin's mind.

_How do you know who I am?_

_All creatures of the Old Religion know you, Emrys. The Fisher King has waited many years to see the day of your coming._

Aloud, Grettir replied, "Why, the Prophecy of the Once and Future King, of course."

Arthur groaned, "Not that again! Will I never get away from that ridiculous superstition?"

Grettir raised an eyebrow. "Before I let you pass, I'll give you a little advice, Arthur Pendragon, Once and Future King."

Arthur started. "How do you know who I am?"

But Grettir plowed ahead, ignoring the question entirely, "As Courage, there are two more things you'll need to fulfill the Prophecy: Strength and Magic."

"I don't condone the use of magic," Arthur grumbled half-heartedly.

"You'd be wise not to dismiss it so freely. The rules in the land you are heading to are quite different to those in the world that you know," Grettir said cryptically as he stepped aside and gestured for them to cross.

Merlin glanced back briefly when they'd reached the other side. The man was nowhere to be seen.

**A/N: So this chapter takes the AU quality to a new level…Balinor as the Fisher King?! And the singing Questing Trio! How do y'all feel about all of that?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the texts to any of the song excerpts in today's chapter. In particular, credit for Gwaine's unconventional "My bonnie lass she smelleth" rendition (sadly) goes to the musical/comedic mastermind named Peter Schickele (pseudonym P.D.Q. Bach…check out his stuff—it's classical-type music with comedic twists. Personal favorite is "New Horizons in Music Appreciation"—basically Beethoven's Fifth Symphony…with sports-announcer-style color commentary throughout. HILARIOUS. :D) **

**Um, additional disclaimer: I'm a total music nerd…it's actually my job. Bachelor's degree and everything. Hope I didn't overload these past few chapters with lyrics/music…I have a soft spot for traditional British/Celtic folk/pub songs and madrigals, so I couldn't resist the temptation to include some once Gwaine showed up…**


	29. Chapter 29: The Last Dragonlord

**A/N: Hi everyone! As always, thanks for the reviews, favs, and follows! Each one is so encouraging to me! I've sent PMs when possible. All three non-PM-enabled reviewers asked roughly the same question, and I'm sure others are equally (understandably) confused, so here's a quick explanation:**

**I recommend keeping Grettir's advice to Arthur in mind as you read the next chapter or two...'The rules in the land you are going to are different to the world that you know,' hehe ;)**

**The Fisher King himself from canon is not in this fic, nor is the golden trident. Balinor is the same man that you know from the canon, but with a somewhat different set of experiences in the 20 years since he fled first Camelot and later Ealdor. The blight on the Perilous Lands has to do with the Great Purge and the Prophecy, not with an ancient sorcerer's festered wounds. Hope that makes a bit more sense!**

**On with the fic! **

Chapter 29: The Last Dragonlord

They rode until shortly before sundown. By the time they made camp, they were all exhausted, Merlin especially. _I basically haven't slept for two whole days_, Merlin thought with a sigh as he collapsed onto his bedroll. Gwaine had seen how tired he was and had volunteered for the first shift of the watch.

Merlin had built a good fire from the readily available dry wood strewn all over the landscape. There were scraps of dried out vines and branches, but no sign of any leaves or greenery. Scorch marks criss-crossed the barren terrain. It was as if something had seared off all the leaves, causing the plants and trees to die and crumble for lack of nutrients.

Nervous after Gwaine's comment about the wyverns, Merlin had built up the fire more than would normally have been necessary to combat the night's chill. Just as he was drifting off, Merlin heard a screeching sound in the distance. He sat up quickly.

"What was that?" he asked nervously.

"Probably wyver-" Arthur guessed, but Gwaine cut him off.

"Pheasant."

"Pheasant?" Arthur looked at him skeptically.

"That's one big pheasant," Merlin added.

Two more screeches answered the first.

"Make that _pheasants_," Gwaine muttered uncomfortably, gripping the hilt of his sword tighter.

_It's going to be long night_, Merlin thought.

As it turned out, Merlin was the only one who got any decent sleep that night.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Merlin woke Gwaine and Arthur early in the morning.

"Don't want to waste any daylight," he muttered apologetically as both men stumbled groggily out of their bedrolls and began to pack up.

Once they were on their way again, Gwaine said, "If the Balinor you're looking for also goes by 'the Fisher King,' then we need to head northwest. Last I heard, it was rumored that a so-called 'Fisher King' had taken up residence at an abandoned castle. Folks call it the Fortress of Níþdraca."

"But you've never been there?" Arthur asked.

Gwaine snorted. "Nope! No desire to-the place is crawling with wyverns. Only folks with a death wish go there." He shook his head and chuckled darkly. "Can't imagine why someone would choose to live there...if the rumors are true, this Balinor must not like visitors."

They rode northwest, constantly scanning the sky and landscape for any sign of movement. They strained their ears, hoping against hope that they wouldn't hear the fearsome screeching from the night before.

As the sun passed directly overhead, a dark stone tower came into hazy view on the horizon.

"That's it," Gwaine announced unnecessarily, breaking the tense silence. "Maybe another hour's ride."

They were only a quarter hour from the tower when they heard the dreaded sound. One screech was echoed by another. All three men threw back their heads and scanned the sky. Three dark shadows circled overhead, distant and dark against the blinding sun. Suddenly, one of the shapes dove, growing larger by the second against the light.

"Wyverns!" Gwaine shouted.

"Go! Go!" Arthur yelled, drawing his sword as Gwaine did the same. All three men spurred their horses into a mad gallop toward the imposing black gates looming in the distance. The three screaming shapes were steadily gaining on the three fleeing riders.

_This is it_, Merlin thought, _There's no way out of this-I'll have to openly fight them off with magic or we'll all die._

A wyvern made a diving pass at Gwaine's horse, unseating him and sending both horse and rider sprawling in a heap of limbs and dust.

Fear gripped Merlin's heart. _I don't even know if my magic will work against wyverns!_

A fourth wyvern shadow passed over them. Merlin racked his brain for any sort of defensive spell that might be strong enough for these terrifying creatures. Gwaine had mercifully rolled and now lay dazed on the ground, feeling about for his sword near his injured horse. _It's now or never_, Merlin thought, _If I don't try something, he's wyvern lunch._

Just as Merlin raised a hand, a deep, powerful voice boomed through the sky above them.

"_O̱ Drákos__ eídos, akoúste me. Tha prépei na ypakoúoun. Makriá apó af̱toús!_"

The three wyverns who'd been closing in on Gwaine and his injured horse suddenly screeched and backed away slowly, bowing their heads in grudging submission and frustratedly hissing small spurts of flame at the ground. They remained in a ring around the three men and horses but did not attack.

The fourth wyvern swooped in. Merlin realized with a start that it bore a rider. A man with long brown hair, streaked with gray, sat bareback astride the beast as though it were nothing more exotic than a horse, his knees braced just behind the creature's wings. The beast landed and skidded to a stop inside the ring of thwarted wyverns. The rider leapt smoothly from its back, dressed all in dark brown with a dark blue open-front robe billowing behind him. The wyverns bowed docily to him.

He turned and offered a hand to help Gwaine up.

"You were nearly on the menu," he said, his expression completely neutral.

Gwaine accepted the proffered hand and clamored to his feet, grimacing as he did so. His left leg gave out and the man grabbed his shoulder to steady him.

"Thanks," Gwaine said through teeth gritted in pain. "Very glad there's still one Dragonlord left."

Merlin dismounted and rushed to support him. The Dragonlord turned to examine Gwaine's horse, which lay weakly thrashing on the hard ground.

"This animal will not recover," the Dragonlord announced, his tone again completely neutral. He bent to place his hands on the terrified animal's forehead and whispered something unintelligible. Merlin saw the man's eyes flare gold and the poor horse calmed, then lay still.

"It will suffer no longer," the Dragonlord remarked to no one in particular.

Merlin cast a cautious glance at Arthur. _How will he react to this man and his magic?_ Arthur's expression was a muddle of surprise and anger. Before Arthur could formulate a response, the man spoke again, this time addressing Gwaine, who still leaned on Merlin for support.

"Sir Strength, I must see to your injuries immediately. You will ride with me." To Arthur and Merlin he said, "Bring the horses and follow us. The wyverns will not attack while I am here-but it is always unwise to tempt them."

Merlin and Arthur needed no further urging. They quickly mounted and followed the Dragonlord and Gwaine riding on the low-flying wyvern the final quarter of a league to the Fortress of Níþdraca.

**A/N: So, hopefully that cleared up a few things…more to be explained in the next chapter! I've already written most of Ch 30—this chapter was originally waaaaay long, so I decided to split it into two. ;)**

**Translations: The dragon-tongue stuff that the Dragonlord says basically amounts to 'Dragon-kind, hearken to me. You may not harm them. You must obey.' Or something roughly to that effect.**

"**Níþdraca" is basically Old English for 'hostile, malicious dragon.'**

**So what do you think? :)**


	30. Chapter 30: Old Wounds

**A/N: Today's a double-header! This chapter was originally part of Ch 29, until I decided it was too long and needed to be split in half. I hope this answers more questions satisfactorily! Ch 31 will be written and posted tomorrow!**

Chapter 30: Old Wounds

Once safely inside the ancient gates with the massive portcullis shut firmly behind them, the Dragonlord helped Gwaine down from the wyvern and dismissed it. It flew shrieking into the sky to rejoin the others, who circled above the courtyard but made no move to enter it.

Only then did the Dragonlord address Arthur directly.

"Welcome, Once and Future King. I am Balinor, Fisher King of the Fortress of Níþdraca. You are most welcome here."

He turned to Merlin and Gwaine. "As are your companions."

His eyes met Merlin's. _Welcome, Emrys. I have waited many years to meet you._

Merlin looked back at him, startled. He thought to himself, _If he knows me, does he also know I'm his son?_

But without another word in his mind, Balinor looked away. "Sir Strength," he addressed Gwaine again, "we must tend your wounds."

Before anyone could reply, Balinor turned briskly and led the way in silence up several flights of ancient stone steps. Merlin supported Gwaine and Arthur brought up the rear, his eyes betraying his wariness of their host. Balinor eventually stopped in front of a large, smooth slab set in the wall.

"_Onhlíd_," he said, his eyes glowing. The slab slid upward, revealing a large chamber.

_Must have been a throne room, once_, Merlin mused as the four men stepped inside. The slab slid smoothly back into place behind them. Arthur spun to face it. Merlin could see from his tense body language that he felt trapped.

Turning to face Balinor, who had offered Gwaine a seat on a rough wooden bench and was beginning to inspect his injuries, Arthur asked, "Why should we trust you?"

Balinor did not look up. He simply kept examining Gwaine's leg as he spoke. "Because I give you my word. On my honor, you and your companions are safe here. The Prophecy must be fulfilled if peace is to be returned to these lands and if justice is to come to Albion."

Merlin felt his heart soar. _My father and I share the same great hope_, he thought. He still couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that he had a father. _Well, I always knew I _had_ a father, but I never thought I would, well, actually meet him-or that he would be a Dragonlord!_

He was shaken from his reverie by Arthur's biting retort.

"Your _honor_? You are a sorcerer! Don't speak to me about _honor_!"

Balinor stood to face him, anger blazing in his eyes, "Don't _you_ speak to _me_, Pendragon, of things you know _nothing_ about!" His voice was low and threatening. "It is only for the sake of the Prophecy that I spared your life. After what your father has done to me and my kin, I would have been justified in allowing the wyverns to tear you limb from limb." He accented each of the final three words.

The two men had moved toe to toe, tension mounting by the second.

Arthur opened his mouth to reply, but Merlin desperately redirected the conversation, "Sire! Please, let him tend to Gwaine."

The man in question looked sickly pale. Merlin strode to his side and instantly saw the cause of his new friend's agony. The fall from the horse has torn a large rip down the side of his left trouser leg, the loose flap falling open to reveal a long, shallow, but clearly infected gash running the length of his thigh. The impact of the fall had evidently split it open afresh. Greenish pus oozed from the wound, staining the fabric of his trousers.

"Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?" Merlin cried, glaring at Gwaine in an admirable impression of Gaius. "You should have let me treat this days ago! No wonder it's hurting you!"

Gwaine attempted a cheeky grin that didn't reach his eyes, "Oi, Merlin, stop acting like my mother!" He gave a forced laugh, but immediately winced.

"He also appears to have cracked a rib or two," Balinor observed.

He stepped away from Arthur and returned to the injured man.

"This may hurt," he stated calmly as he placed a hand on Gwaine's aching side and muttered the same spell Merlin had used to mend Freya's collarbone. There was the glint of gold, two loud crackles, and a muffled grunt from Gwaine, but he began at once to breathe more deeply and easily.

"Cheers, mate," he sighed in relief.

Balinor turned to Merlin.

"Have you had physician's training, boy?"

_Ok, not how I was expecting him to address me._

"A bit, sir," Merlin went along with it, "I am the ward of Gaius, Camelot's court physician. He has taught me some field basics."

Balinor's eyebrows rose. "Gaius, hmm?"

But the expression was gone so quickly that Merlin wondered if he imagined it. Balinor's face was again unreadable. He knelt down and held both hands just above Gwaine's infected gash and chanted, "_Ahlúttre þá séocnes. Þurhhæle bræd_."

Merlin watched in rapt fascination as the flesh knit itself back together from the inside out, layer by layer with each chanted repetition, pushing the infection to the surface of the newly healed skin, where it dissipated in a puff of green mist.

_Whoa_, Merlin thought. _I need to learn to do that._

Balinor sat back on his heels.

"Good as new," Gwaine grinned at him. "Thanks."

Merlin glanced at Arthur as Balinor stood and nodded to Gwaine before crossing to the slab-doorway. Arthur's brow was furrowed. _Uh oh_, Merlin thought, _I know that expression-he's having an argument with himself_.

Balinor addressed them, pointedly avoiding eye contact with Arthur. "Make yourselves comfortable-I will return with food and drink for you shortly."

Merlin jumped at the opportunity.

"May I help you, sir?"

"No, boy, don't trouble yourself."

"It's no trouble," Merlin almost pleaded, "I'm the prince's servant; it's my duty."

_I just want to speak with you-alone_, he projected.

Balinor nodded slightly.

"Fine, boy, follow me."

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed this! I'd love to hear what you thought of it. :) Ch 31 will pick up tomorrow evening where this chapter left off!**


	31. Chapter 31: Like Father, Like Son

**A/N: Thanks for the enthusiastic responses to Ch 29 & 30! I'm so glad y'all enjoyed them! Here's the eagerly-awaited conversation between Merlin and Balinor ;) (Guest reviews addressed at the end of this chapter.)**

Chapter 31: Like Father, Like Son

Merlin followed Balinor down the spiral stairs in silence. As they passed the ground floor, Merlin glanced out through the arched doorway into the large courtyard. He hadn't really observed it in their haste to get Gwaine inside and treated. To his surprise, he saw it was ringed with greenery-bushes and trees and something that resembled a vegetable plot. He turned back to ask Balinor about it, but the man was already half a flight ahead of him, continuing downward.

Merlin scrambled to catch up. They descended into what must at one point have been a dungeon. It was cool and dark. Balinor selected a torch from a stack leaning against the wall by the base of the stairs and lit it with a single word.

"_Bryne_."

The torch flared to life. Balinor handed a second one to Merlin. Merlin silently lit it with just a flash of golden irises.

"Impressive," Balinor smiled, the first genuine expression he'd permitted to cross his features. "I suppose it shouldn't surprise me that the great Emrys is a warlock."

"Um, thank you," Merlin smiled back sheepishly. Inside, his heart leapt. _He's proud of me! My father is proud of me!_

In the flickering light of the torches, Merlin could see that the ancient dungeon had been converted into a root cellar of sorts. A small spring bubbled up in a tiny pool ringed with rocks in the center of the chamber, while shelves and crevices around the perimeter were stocked with a variety of fruits and vegetables. Slabs of assorted fresh meat and dried herbs hung from hooks and chains in the low ceiling and a couple of woven baskets were stacked against the far wall.

_Where did this all come from?_ Merlin thought.

Balinor must have seen his wide-eyed expression, because he chuckled and answered the question as he picked up a basket and began to sort root vegetables into it.

"Wyverns are good hunters. Being a Dragonlord means I have the privilege to ask them for a portion of their spoils." Balinor sighed. "They're not the best conversationalists, but they do keep me well supplied. The rest is grown here, up in the courtyard. Contrary to appearances, these lands are very fertile."

"So what happened?" Merlin blurted, thinking of the barren terrain they'd crossed, as he absentmindedly added a few apples to the basket with the passing thought, _Gwaine likes apples_. It had seemed as though nothing was alive, let alone flourishing, out there.

"Wyverns. This land was once ruled by the Dragonlords. The land flourished, built on a partnership between all of dragon-kind and men." Balinor's tone suddenly turned from nostalgic to dark. "Then Uther started his rampage. He waged a war not just against magic, but against the Dragonlords as well."

Anger clouded his clear eyes. He threw another potato vindictively into the basket and turned away to another shelf before continuing.

"He slaughtered them all. With the Dragonlords gone and the great dragons all but extinct, the wyverns got out of control, searing the land until everything withered."

Merlin nodded, his heart aching at the slaughter of so many innocents.

"So you're really the last Dragonlord?"

"Yes, Emrys, I am. The gift has always passed from father to son. But when I die, the line of Dragonlords dies with me."

Merlin felt as though he'd been punched in the gut. _He doesn't know_.

He wanted to cry, "You're wrong!" and declare their kinship, but the words caught in his throat, trapped by fear of rejection. He tried a different, less direct approach.

"You know Kilgarrah, don't you?"

"He still lives?" Balinor turned to face Merlin, hope shining in his eyes.

"Yes," Merlin smiled a lopsided grin, "Was he always that cryptic?"

Balinor threw back his head and laughed-a deep, throaty, heartfelt laugh-as though he hadn't laughed in years. Merlin couldn't help but join in.

"Yes, grouchy old prat of a lizard," Balinor said affectionately when their laughter finally subsided. He turned away again and began selecting a couple of slabs of meat from the hooks and placing them in another basket lined with cheesecloth.

"So after Uther imprisoned Kilgarrah, Gaius helped you escape, right?"

Balinor looked up sharply. "He told you?"

"Well, no," Merlin began.

"Then how did you know?" Balinor demanded.

"I'm from Ealdor…" Merlin said, cringing slightly under his stern gaze.

Balinor suddenly looked pale in the torchlight.

"Ealdor?" he asked quietly.

Merlin nodded, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. A faraway look stole into Balinor's eyes as he picked up the full basket of vegetables.

"Ealdor...I had a life there once."

Merlin waited for him to continue.

"There was a woman...a good woman. Hunith, she was called. Did you know her?"

A wide grin spread across Merlin's face.

"Yes, I know her well...she's my mother."

Balinor's eyes focused again and he stared at Merlin, as though he thought if he looked hard enough he might be able to see Hunith.

"So she married. That's...good." His face was a mixture of relief and pain.

"No, she never did."

"Then…?"

"I was born the winter after you fled here," Merlin shrugged. "She had no way to contact you."

"You're my..._our_...son?" Unshed tears glazed the older man's eyes.

"Yes...Father," Merlin spoke the word with reverent joy.

"My _son_," Balinor breathed.

Before Merlin could say anything else, Balinor dropped the basket and swept him into a bear hug as the spilled vegetables rolled around their feet.

**A/N: Thoughts? :)**

**Guest review replies:**

_**Nance**_**: I tried to include some of that explanation into this chapter and more should be filled in over the next chapter or two as well. Thanks for the encouraging feedback! :)**

_**Guest**_**: Thanks! :) I promise you'll find out soon…first, though, Ch 32 has to cover what was happening upstairs with healed!Gwaine and internal-debate!Arthur while Merlin & Balinor were talking in the root cellar ;)**


	32. Chapter 32: A History Lesson

**A/N: I forgot to mention a cool milestone yesterday: We've passed 30,000 words and 30,000 total views! I think that's pretty cool. The reader response to this fic has completely exceeded my wildest hopes for this project when I started it. Before this, I'd never written a fanfic before. One month in, this fic has far and away the most reviews (6x), favs (1.5x), and follows (2x) of any Merlin-category fanfic published on this site in the past month. I'm so honored, y'all. Thank you for being so kind and enthusiastic about my work. :D**

**(Guest review replies are at the end of this post, btw.)**

**On with the fic!**

Chapter 32: A History Lesson

"Coming here was a mistake," Arthur muttered as he stared out the tall, narrow windows in the ancient throne room after Merlin had left with Balinor. _Why did I let Merlin talk me into this?_

"What's that, Princess? Something got your knickers in a twist?" Gwaine teased, still sprawled comfortably on the bench by the long rough-hewn table in the center of the room. Arthur ignored him. Gwaine leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"It's the magic, isn't?" he asked, his tone serious.

Arthur turned to face him and leaned back against the window frame with a sigh.

"I didn't know Balinor was a sorcerer or a Dragonlord. If I had, we wouldn't have come here."

Gwaine suddenly appeared very interested in an invisible spot on the stone floor, scuffing at it with his boot.

_Oh_, Arthur thought.

"You knew." It wasn't a question.

Gwaine stopped scuffing the floor, stood resolutely, and looked straight at Arthur.

"Of course I knew. And this-" Gwaine flapped his hand in Arthur's direction, "-is exactly why I didn't tell you."

"Explain. Now." Arthur's voice was low and dangerous. He crossed his arms.

"On one condition," Gwaine countered, his eyes flashing.

"What?" _On what grounds does he dare make conditions?_

"Hand over your sword."

"Why should I?"

"Because if I'm going to talk, then you're going to listen-no cutting me off and no running me through."

_Ok, I have to admit, that's probably fair_, Arthur thought.

Aloud he said, "Fine," unbuckled his sword belt, and tossed it to Gwaine. "Now talk."

Gwaine dropped the sword and scabbard on the table with a clatter. As he spoke, he ambled over to the large stone fireplace covered with carvings of dragons.

"I take it history wasn't your strong suit. Otherwise, you'd know that the Perilous Lands weren't always like this-they weren't even called that." Gwaine leaned his arm against the intricately carved mantle. "Before the Great Purge, Æðeldraca was ruled peacefully by the Dragonlords. Uther attacked them, slaughtering every Dragonlord and dragon he could."

Arthur opened his mouth to protest, but Gwaine cut him off. "No interrupting, Princess-that was our deal."

Arthur shut his mouth again sullenly and sat down on the bench Gwaine had vacated.

Gwaine continued, "Rumor has it that Balinor is the only Dragonlord who survived, but nobody knows how. With the rest of the Dragonlords gone, the title and the Dragonlords' Fortress fell to him, even though he wasn't a noble."

_So that's how he became the Fisher King_, Arthur thought.

Aloud he remarked, "I should have guessed he wasn't of noble birth. Only a commoner would behave so rudely."

Gwaine whirled around to face him, anger contorting his features.

"See, that's the problem with nobility! You think you can do no wrong-that you're better than everyone else."

He smacked his fist on the table with a resounding _thud_. He was practically yelling now.

"You don't get it, do you? Nobility is defined by what you do, not by who you are-and right now, your behavior is anything but!"

Arthur sat completely still in shock. Gwaine threaded his fingers through his shaggy hair and turned away from the table, clearly making an effort to reign in his temper. When he turned to face Arthur again, his anger had diffused.

"Do you want to hear the rest, _sire_? Or do you want your sword back now so you can run me through and be done with it?" he asked, a tinge of bitterness giving his words a biting edge. He leaned both hands on the table, his head bowed.

_Is that the kind of man he thinks I am?_ Arthur thought in dismay.

_It's what your father would do_, the Uther-sounding half of his inner monologue replied.

_But you're not him_, the Guinevere-half retorted. As seemed to be happening more and more lately, the Guinevere-voice prevailed.

"No," Arthur said humbly, "No, I don't. Please, continue."

Gwaine looked up at him, the surprise evident in his eyes.

"Maybe Merlin was right about you after all," he said slowly, allowing the barest hint of a smile to turn up the corners of his mouth.

"What did he say?" Arthur asked, genuinely curious.

"That he believed in you; that I should give you a chance."

Arthur met his gaze. "Will you?"

Gwaine allowed the smile to spread across his face. "Yes...I think I will."

Then a teasing expression made Gwaine's eyes crinkle.

"Now, Princess, are you ready for me to finish the story?"

"...Fine, yes, just hurry up-they could be back at any time."

Gwaine flopped down on a second bench across the table from Arthur and propped his elbows on the table.

"So Balinor fled to this tower, but Uther still wouldn't leave him alone. He laid siege to the Fortress for months-only gave up because he lost too many men to the wyverns. It was the glaring defeat of the Great Purge-no wonder he didn't tell you."

Arthur was silent for a full minute, processing everything. A new question occurred to him.

"Why can't we seem to find someone who's not a sorcerer to help us?"

"That's easy," Gwaine chuckled darkly, swinging a leg up onto the bench and draping his arm on his knee. "They're the only ones who have nothing left to lose."

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it, Princess," Gwaine shrugged, "Your father already has a price on their heads. They're already in just as much trouble for the crime of being alive as they are if they help you."

"Oh."

Gwaine continued, "Plus, if they believe the Prophecy, then helping you is their only hope for a better future."

"Oh." _Why can't you think of something more intelligent to say, Pendragon?_ Arthur scolded himself.

At the mention of the Prophecy, he suddenly remembered Grettir's words. "Do you agree with what Grettir said at the bridge? About Strength and Magic?" Arthur rubbed the back of his neck tiredly. "Balinor keeps calling you Sir Strength, after all."

Gwaine shrugged. "No reason not to believe him. And Balinor seems a pretty good candidate for Magic."

"Hmm," Arthur acknowledged. They sank into mutual silence.

Eventually, Arthur pulled his thoughts together and asked bluntly, "Do you think magic is evil?"

"Are you going to cut off my head if I answer honestly?" Gwaine needled.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "No...you still have my sword."

"No, it's not evil."

"How do you know?"

"Because I've traveled enough and seen enough. It's a lot like fire-it can be used to burn and destroy or to give warmth and light. It can be beautiful or terrible; just depends on who's using it."

_That...makes a surprising amount of sense_, Arthur thought. He nodded slowly.

Just then they heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Balinor and Merlin entered, carrying baskets of meat and vegetables.

At a few words from Balinor, a blazing cookfire sprang up and crackled merrily in the great hearth with the plentiful meal roasting tantalizingly over it.

Arthur sat quietly, staring into the flames as Balinor cooked while Merlin exchanged limericks with Gwaine. _Magic is like fire, Gwaine said_, Arthur thought as he observed Balinor. _Maybe this is my chance to see for myself if he's right_.

**A/N: How was it? *hides behind chair, hoping this chapter turned out okay***

**[Guest review replies]**

_**WSP:**_** I'm sorry I made you cry but I'm glad they were happy tears! :) I'm sorry, I can't make promises…**

_**Nance: **_**Thanks so much for your kind words! Yeah, his experiences are bad-but-not-quite-as-bad as in canon, so he's a little less bitter (plus he has the Prophecy to hang on to in this instance, so it helps). I like to think that he was much like Merlin in his youth (but maybe a little harder/less inherently compassionate—apparently Merlin gets some of his sensitivity/kindness from Hunith), so I used that as starting point and factored in the AU experiences I had in mind to get his character to where he is in this fic. I hope that makes sense. Yeah, Merlin has earned some happiness in this fic, I think ;)**

_**Guest: **_**Aww, thank you! :)**

_**Kayla**_**: Thanks for reviewing! I'm really sorry but I can't make any promises…**


	33. Chapter 33: Meanwhile

**A/N: I'm SO sorry I didn't post Ch 33 yesterday liked I'd planned to. :( Life intervened—my husband came home from military training (Yay!) and an old wrist injury was acting up, so typing really hurt (Not-so-yay). So here's the chapter I meant to finish yesterday!**

**After many chapters following Merlin and Arthur on their adventures, it's time to properly check in with the Camelot crew to see what they've been up to over the past few days ;)**

Chapter 33: Meanwhile

Morgana knew she was impatient. _Always have been_, she thought. Waiting a day for each reply from Emrys was really starting to drive her crazy. She thought about it constantly and was grateful to have the headache excuse each of the three times Uther caught her staring off into space with furrowed brow during that morning's court session. The midday meal with him had been torturous.

She had sent Ambrosius off with a reply late last night, so she was unlikely to hear anything until late this evening, but she couldn't help wishing time would hurry up. She wanted desperately to know his suggestions for helping Elyan.

_I hate waiting._

Already Elyan had languished in the cells for twenty-four hours. It was only a matter of time-maybe mere hours-before Uther grew impatient with letting him heal sufficiently and ordered him to be tortured for information about Arthur.

_Every moment we wait is another moment Elyan suffers_, she thought as she stared out her bedchamber window. Behind her, the chamber door creaked open.

"Morgana?" Gwen called, poking her head into the room.

Morgana turned to greet her friend, who shut the door skillfully behind her with her foot while balancing a stack of crisp linens.

"Here you are, milady-freshly pressed, with sprigs of lavender. I'll just put these away, shall I?" Gwen bustled over to the cupboard.

Morgana intercepted her. "Here, let me. You sit down and rest."

Gwen looked surprised as Morgana pried the stack from her arms.

As she finished putting away the linens, Morgana explained, "You've been running yourself ragged for two days since you heard about the ambush. You have to rest or you'll make yourself sick, and you can't help Elyan if you're ill. No one will be the wiser if you rest while you're in here with me."

Gwen smiled gratefully and sat down on the edge of Morgana's bed. "No word from Emrys yet? Thought I suppose it's too soon, isn't it?" She sighed and fidgeted with her hands.

"You're worried about Arthur, aren't you?" Morgana asked, sitting down beside Gwen and taking her hands in hers.

Gwen looked up at her, then looked away quickly-but not before Morgana noticed the dark circles under Gwen's eyes. _I knew she must be tired, but she looks utterly exhausted._ _Has she been sleeping at all?_

Gwen sighed. "Yes, I'm worried-about Elyan and about Arthur. You do think he'll be all right, don't you?"

"Yes." She squeezed Gwen's hand reassuringly. "Both of them will be. Emrys will take care of Arthur and Merlin, and we'll help Elyan. You'll see." She didn't want to admit that she was reassuring herself as well.

Gwen smiled, fighting the tears that gathered in the corners of her eyes. "Yes, I'm sure he will." She deftly changed the topic as she freed a hand to wipe away the telltale moisture, "And are you worried about Merlin?"

Morgana blushed. _How did she know? Is it that obvious?_

"I don't know…" she began, but Gwen cut her off.

"You are, aren't you!" she crowed, then giggled as a blush colored her own cheeks. "We're a match set, aren't we? Pining away here like this?"

Morgana laughed, too. It felt good to let go of the tension and the waiting, even just for a moment. When their laughter subsided, Morgana pondered how to explain her muddled emotions. _Gwen is always the best listener...well, besides Merlin_. There were those pesky thoughts again!

She sighed. "I don't know what to think."

"About what, exactly?"

"I miss him, I admit it. But I don't know why I do. It's not like anything has or ever could happen between us."

"Why not?" Gwen smiled.

"Because Uther would never approve-the King's ward and a servant? He'd throw him in the dungeons or worse."

"But Arthur and I-"

Morgana cut her off, her frustration mounting.

"No, it's not the same! Arthur will be king one day and then he can do as he pleases. I'll always have to wait for a man's blessing-first Uther, then Arthur."

"But Arthur would-"

"No, Gwen, he wouldn't. He may be a better man than Uther, but this is still _Merlin_ we're talking about. He'd never approve." Morgana fought back tears and shifted away from Gwen.

_I hate being trapped-feeling so powerless._

Gwen rubbed her shoulder comfortingly. "Does Merlin feel the same way about you?"

"I honestly don't know."

"I'm sure Emrys will bring them both home safely, don't worry. Then you two will have plenty of time to get your feelings sorted."

As Morgana turned to her with a watery smile, Gwen smiled mischievously, "And if need be, I'll work on Arthur for you."

**A/N: So it was a bit fluffy, but I hope y'all enjoyed the budding Arwen and Mergana! What'd you think? Feedback about characterization would be especially appreciated—I struggled a bit writing this chapter.**

**Now that we've established how far we're backtracking to pick up events back in Camelot, the next chapter will move faster! I'll tackle it right now…we'll see how long my wrists hold up tonight. Maybe you'll even get a second chapter tonight! If not, then I'll definitely have it posted tomorrow. :)**


	34. Chapter 34: Expectations vs Reality, Pt1

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, favs, and follows! I've replied to all the reviews and PMs individually where possible—guest review replies are included at the end of this chapter. :)**

**Thanks also for everyone's patience and support with the updating delays due to wrist pain. It's doing much better, so I'm hoping to resume my daily updating schedule either tomorrow or the day after. :) Thanks again!**

**On with the fic!**

Chapter 34: Expectations Versus Reality, Part1

The much-anticipated reply from Emrys arrived late that evening. Morgana was already in bed when Ambrosius tapped on her window. The small falcon flapped gratefully into the room and perched on the back of an armchair before the fireplace. She laughed as he fluffed his feathers and chirped contentedly before immediately falling asleep in the warm glow of the cozy fire. She retrieved the two messages, being careful not to disrupt his nap.

_Finally, advice from Emrys!_ she thought in eager anticipation as she unrolled the first message. Much to her disappointment, then entire message was a meager three sentences:

_Morgana,_

_I am pleased that Elyan lives. I trust Gaius and Kilgarrah to advise you of a suitable plan. Don't worry-I will continue to protect Arthur, no matter what Uther does._

_Emrys_

Morgana rolled up the message and sighed. _Well, that was...less informative than I'd hoped. Strange, strange man._

She shook her head, grabbed her dressing gown, and snuck out of her chambers to see Gaius.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Standing in his night robe in the middle of his chambers, Gaius eagerly accepted the message Morgana brought him. She sat down on the wooden bench and pulled her dressing gown tighter around herself as he unrolled the message and skimmed quickly. Much to his disappointment, it was brief, concerning, and cryptic. _He's spent too much time with Kilgarrah_, Gaius thought.

_Gaius,_

_Thank you for your advice. Freya said the same thing-not to let hate consume me. I'll try. We have a new guide. He found out about my magic. I'm not sure what will happen now._

_Merlin_

"What is it?" Morgana asked.

"It's nothing," Gaius said quickly, rolling up the message and stowing it in his robes.

"Gaius, please, don't shut me out," Morgana said gently.

Gaius sighed. "Arthur and Merlin have acquired a new traveling companion. I'm concerned he may reveal Emrys' involvement to Arthur before Arthur is ready to accept it. If that happens, it may put Emrys in great danger-and Arthur, too, by extension."

"Is there anything we can do to help Emrys?" Morgana asked. _He may be a peculiar one, but he's Arthur's best hope_.

"Nothing, I'm afraid, save for taking care of things here so he has less to worry about," Gaius sighed and sat on the bench across the table from Morgana. "If I may ask, what did he say to you?"

"Practically nothing," Morgana muttered and handed over the measly message.

Gaius hummed in acknowledgement and set the message back on the table. He folded his hands and looked across at Morgana. "Kilgharrah said much the same. Would you care to run your plan by me again tonight? We can sleep on it and fine-tune it in the morning, if you like."

"Of course," Morgana began. "So, we need a new way to get past the guards-"

"Right, because the drugged ale isn't an option anymore," Gaius recalled.

Morgana nodded. After Arthur's escape, Uther had fired the guards in question, hired entirely new guards, and forbidden any food and drink save what was specially prepared for them in the kitchens. If anyone else brought them anything, the guards were sure to be suspicious.

"Ale isn't the only common weakness we can exploit," Morgana continued with a knowing smile. "A pretty girl is just as good a distraction. So Gwen will flirt with one of the new guards-"

"Are you certain Gwen is all right with this plan? You do know her feelings lie elsewhere, correct?"

Morgana smiled, remembering her conversation with Gwen that afternoon. "Yes, of course, I know that she and Arthur adore each other! I wish I could do this so she wouldn't have to, but the guards would recognize me and be suspicious. Gwen said she is willing to do whatever it takes to save Elyan."

Gaius nodded.

"Please, continue. What is her goal?"

"To convince the new guard to leave his post with her temporarily. Then I'll unlock Elyan's cell with magic and lead him out through the tunnel Arthur and Merlin used. By the time the guard comes back, Elyan will be gone without a trace."

"And what if the guard refuses?"

"We'll try again the next night."

"Morgana, this plan is very risky. It may not succeed even under the best of circumstances. At worst, you and Gwen could find yourselves sharing Elyan's cell and sentence."

Considering this, Morgana stood and slowly crossed to the foot of the steps to Merlin's empty room. She ran her hand thoughtfully up the doorframe and leaned against it. The door was ajar and she could just make out in the flickering light of Gaius' candles and fireplace a few of Merlin's detailed blue-ink sketches of herbs and flowers tacked to the wall. The one of delicate blue Forget-Me-Nots caught her eye especially.

_Emrys is protecting Merlin at great personal risk; I need to do the same for Elyan_.

Resolute, she turned to face her mentor again.

"Yes, Gaius, I'm aware of the risks, but it's the best plan we have. We can't afford to wait. Uther grows restless as it is."

Gaius nodded, convinced.

"Then I'd best get started teaching you unlocking spells."

**A/N: So what'd you think? Thanks again for your patience with my delayed updating. I do hope to resume daily updates and have ch 35 written and posted by tomorrow evening. :)**

**Oh, I forgot to post replies to guest reviews in Ch 33's author note:**

_**Nance**_**: I'm still sad I can't send you PMs since you review so often and I always want to discuss your ideas and comments with you! Sure you can't get an account just for the sake of the PMs? :D I am glad you picked up on Gwaine's stealthy deflection—he's already protecting Merlin, hehe :) I'm also glad you like what I did with the backstory and that it didn't come across too heavy/boring in ch 32. Yeah, I know, right? Though I personally think Gwaine's would be bawdy and Merlin's would probably be making fun of Arthur…I like to think Merlin has somewhat higher standards about such things than Gwaine, haha ;) I'm glad you like the sprigs of lavender in ch 33—apparently that's a way to keep moths away, actually. :)**

_**BookLover321**_**: Thanks for taking the time to leave a review! I appreciate it! I'm glad you're enjoying this! Don't worry, I've got the rest planned out and I promise a happy ending eventually!**


	35. Chapter 35: Expectations vs Reality, Pt2

**A/N: Thank you to all who reviewed, fav'd, and followed! (I've replied by PM to reviews and messages.) This fic now has 330+ reviews, 110 favs, and 180+ follows! I know I've said this before, but I never expected so much love ;) Thank you!**

**We pick up right where Ch 34 left off…with more situations where reality isn't exactly as expected ;)**

Chapter 35: Expectations Versus Reality, Part 2

Forty minutes later, Morgana sighed and let her head fall forward with a soft _thud_ onto the table in front of her.

"What am I doing wrong?" she muttered into the rough-hewn wood. "It should have worked by now!"

"This spell can be a bit temperamental to master. A subtle shift in syllabic stress can upset the entire spell," Gaius sympathized.

"I've tried every way I can think of," Morgana's muffled words drifted up, her forehead still resting on the table.

A padlock sat on the table between them. Despite Morgana's diligent efforts for over half an hour, it was still very much locked. Gaius slid the padlock to the side and set an empty ceramic mug on the table in its place.

"Let's work on something else for a bit, then try the unlocking spell again."

Morgana finally raised her head, a spark of enthusiasm returning. Every new spell made her heart race and her magic sizzle in her veins as though it was a hound begging to be allowed to give chase to a fox.

Gaius explained as Morgana eyed the empty mug, "I want you to use magic to call the mug across the table into your hand. Here is the spell."

He handed her the thin, non-descript book with the magic-masking cover. She hesitantly sounded out the strange word that Gaius indicated on the page.

"_Strangaþ_."

Her magic crackled unbidden and the mug responded instantly. Morgana ducked just in time as the mug flew forcefully from the table past her head and smashed into a hundred pieces against the wall behind her.

_Wasn't expecting that_...

"Oops," she cringed and smiled sheepishly as her mentor raised an amused eyebrow at the spectacle.

Gaius stood and climbed the steps to Merlin's room. He returned a moment later, carrying a scrap of faded blue fabric which he deposited on the table where the unfortunate mug had been. Morgana recognized it immediately. It was one of Merlin's ubiquitous neckerchiefs.

"Less likely to cause injuries," Gaius teased as he resumed his seat. "You have an intrinsic talent for this spell, it seems, so we just have to fine-tune your control. Try again, but this time, focus on exactly where you want the neckerchief to go...and how quickly."

Morgana smiled at the praise. "I'll help you clean up the shards later," she promised as she opened the leather-bound spellbook again. This time, she envisioned her goal as she spoke the word carefully.

"_Strangaþ_," she said with a flicker of golden eyes, watching happily as the neckerchief levitated and floated gently into her outstretched hand.

"Well done, Morgana!" Gaius praised. "You have come so far in such a short time. I'm proud of you."

Morgana blushed-as much from the praise as from the butterflies in her stomach triggered by the soft neckerchief still grasped in her hand.

"Would you like to try the unlocking spell again?" Gaius asked as she reluctantly relinquished the neckerchief and he returned it to its owner's room.

"Absolutely," Morgana replied. _I can do this!_ she thought, raising a hand over the padlock.

"_Tospringe_," she whispered, concentrating all her power and intent upon the frustrating chunk of metal in front of her.

Her irises flared a bright gold and the lock snapped open with a satisfying _click_.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Exhausted but happy, Morgana hurried back to her chambers a short time later after her lesson with Gaius concluded. She penned a reply to Emrys and sent a rested and fed Ambrosius on his way through the night. To her surprise, instead of flying westward out of sight like he usually did, Ambrosius turned northward almost immediately after he cleared the courtyard. She watched him disappear into the darkness. _They must be making progress northward—if they started north when I think they did, they should reach the border of the Perilous Lands tonight or tomorrow_. She shut the window against the night's chill and pulled the drapes shut before climbing into bed. One final thought wandered across her mind as she fell into an exhausted sleep: _I hope Emrys is being extra watchful._

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The next day, much to Lady Morgana's continued frustration, involved a great deal of waiting. She had driven Gwen nearly insane with her pacing and fidgeting throughout the day as Gwen went about her chores and helped her dress for dinner with the king.

"Morgana!" Gwen had teased gently, having to reset a hair pin yet again, "You must hold still or you'll never be ready in time!"

Morgana had sighed and made a concerted effort to hold still long enough for Gwen to finish the elaborate hairstyle she'd just concocted. Gwen hadn't been able to sleep much last night-_Again_, she thought in frustration-so she had dreamed up new styles to occupy her anxious mind.

"There! Finally finished!" She had announced proudly, handing Morgana an elegant engraved hand-mirror.

"Oh, it's lovely!" Morgana had exclaimed, checking her reflection quickly. Then she had suddenly spun in her seat and grinned at Gwen mischievously.

"Do you want any help getting ready for your _quest_?"

Gwen had blushed scarlet as Morgana laughed merrily.

"Here, Gwen, just a bit of these powders-like so-and just a dab of this…"

After a quick flurry of motion, Morgana stepped back to examine her handiwork.

"There, Gwen, you look lovely as always but just different enough to make identifying you after the fact a bit trickier. This guard doesn't stand a chance! How could he resist you?"

Morgana had triumphantly thrust the hand mirror into Gwen's hands.

Thoroughly embarrassed, Gwen had hurried Morgana out the door so as not to keep the king waiting. Waiting, she and Morgana both knew, made the king irritable. An irritable Uther was-in many ways-a more alert Uther. And an alert Uther was a danger to their plan. If Morgana could keep him placated and plied with food, wine, and pleasant company, he would be much less in tune with what might or might not be happening downstairs in his dungeons.

After seeing Morgana off to supper, Gwen had snuck into the kitchens and assembled a plate much as she had for Arthur when he had been jailed over the Mortaeus flower incident.

Now, facing the moment she'd been dreading all day, Gwen bit her lip nervously as she carried the plate down the steps into the dungeons. She knew from visiting Elyan with Gaius that there was one guard posted by the stairs at the usual guard station and one posted directly outside Elyan's cell. Uther was determined not to have any more prisoners escape.

_We'll see about that_, Gwen thought defiantly.

She approached the first guard-a mountain of a man-standing silently at the base of the stairs with his bare arms crossed in front of his chest. She took a deep breath and recited her prepared line.

"Food for the prisoner."

"Early?" the guard observed, simply raising one eyebrow slightly.

Gwen gulped and scrambled for a viable explanation.

"Um, Court Physician's orders!" she said, "He said the prisoner needs extra to regain his strength before questioning!"

The guard merely nodded once in assent.

Gwen moved past him, willing herself to walk normally.

_Almost there_, she thought, _This is going to be _so _awkward! I never know what to say! And he'll probably be bad at conversation and completely repulsive and..._

She rounded the bend in the passage and stopped short when she saw the guard standing stiffly in front of Elyan's cell, his features illuminated clearly in the light of the flickering wall torches. Only one word hung in her shocked mind.

_Lancelot?_

**A/N: Soooo…what do you think? Anyone surprised by stuff in this chapter? Ch 36 (aka Part 3) coming tomorrow! :D**


	36. Chapter 36: Change of Plan

**A/N: Hehe, I'm glad so many of you enjoyed (or at least were surprised by) the cliffhanger from yesterday! Today's chapter offers an explanation and sets up the next stage of the action while including a healthy dose of Morgana/Gwen friendship fluff…and maybe one or two more twists along the way! :)**

**Guest review replies at the end of this chapter, per usual.**

**On with the fic! ;)**

Chapter 36: Change of Plan

_Lancelot?_

"Gwen?" Lancelot stared at her in surprise. "What are you doing down here?"

Gwen's temper flared unexpectedly. "I should ask you the same thing! You _left_!"

The full weight of that accusation hung heavy in the air. Neither of them moved.

Eventually, Lancelot swallowed thickly and broke eye contact, dropping his gaze to the grimy dungeon floor.

"When I learned Arthur loved you, I couldn't stay. He is a better man than I."

"And you didn't think I should be allowed to make my own choice?" Gwen countered, her voice breaking with emotion.

Lancelot continued to stare at the floor. The silence stretched out uncomfortably. At last, a quiet "ahem" from behind Lancelot broke the tension.

"Could someone _please_ tell me what in the world is going on?" Elyan asked sarcastically from his cell.

"This doesn't concern you," Lancelot said firmly, just as Gwen opened her mouth to explain. She shot Lancelot a death glare and brought the plate over to Elyan.

"Open it," Gwen said to Lancelot, gesturing to the cell door.

He complied. She handed over the plate before Lancelot relocked the cell.

"Elyan, this is Lancelot, the would-be knight I wrote you about."

Lancelot's eyes openly showed his confusion.

"Lancelot, this is my brother Elyan."

"Oh." Lancelot had the grace to look ashamed of his previous harsh remark. "I'm sorry, Elyan."

"So, you're the famous Lancelot?" Elyan mused darkly as he leaned against the bars of his cell. "You broke my sister's heart, you know. I should string you up for that."

Lancelot's expression now closely resembled a whipped puppy. Gwen placed a hand on Elyan's arm through the bars.

"It's all right, Elyan," she said calmly, standing straighter as she faced Lancelot. "I can handle this."

"Gwen, I'm sorry," Lancelot said sincerely, reaching out for her hand. "Perhaps we could start again?"

Gwen took a step backwards, just out of reach.

"So am I," Gwen replied softly, "But what we had is gone. Over. You made your decision, and I made mine."

Lancelot let his hand drop to his side, a hint of defeat weighing on his shoulders. "I understand, and I will respect your decision."

Gwen turned away to brush aside the tears that threatened to spill out of her eyes and smear her make-up. _Why did I let Morgana put so much eyeliner on me?_

"Oh!" Gwen cried. She spun around abruptly to face Elyan and Lancelot again. "I completely forgot about the plan!"

"What plan?" Elyan asked.

"The plan to rescue you! I've completely ruined it!"

Lancelot looked from Gwen to Elyan and back again. "Tell me your plan," he said simply.

"But you're a guard now." _You've sided with Uther_.

"I only took the job to make sure you were safe," Lancelot explained.

Gwen still didn't let her guard down.

"What do you mean?"

"When I heard Arthur had been forced to flee Camelot, I feared for your safety. A friend told me they were hiring new guards, so I jumped at the chance to be nearby. Though I know now that I have lost your heart, I still wish to serve and protect you in any way I can, my lady."

Gwen nearly cried in relief. _Morgana is never going to believe all of this._

"Well," Gwen began, but Lancelot interrupted her.

"Whatever your plan may be, we're going to need help," he said. "Wait here."

Elyan and Gwen exchanged confused looks as he strode down the corridor and turned the corner towards the main guard station. He returned a moment later, followed by the gigantic guard Gwen had passed on her way in.

"This is the friend who told me about the job. You may speak freely; I trust him with my life."

Lancelot turned to his friend to complete the introductions.

"Percival, meet Gwen and Elyan."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Lancelot's back?" Morgana repeated incredulously when Gwen returned to Morgana's chambers to report on her quest. She sat down slowly in one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace.

Gwen nodded and sat opposite her.

Morgana continued, "And he knows you're with Arthur now-"

Gwen blushed and fidgeted with her hands. "I don't know if I'd call it 'with,' exactly…"

"Nonsense!" Morgana declared, gesturing enthusiastically as she spoke. "Arthur likes you; you like Arthur-the only thing keeping you apart is Uther. I'd call that 'with'!"

Gwen blushed an even deeper scarlet as Morgana barreled on.

"Anyway, Lancelot knows that and he still wants to help us?"

Gwen shrugged. "Apparently, yes."

"All right, then," Morgana said matter-of-factly. _Good enough for me_.

She continued, "You said he and his friend—Percival, was it?—have a plan?"

"Yes," Gwen explained. "They plan to fake an escape and both leave with Elyan to join Arthur and Merlin in the Perilous Lands."

"Wait, 'fake' an escape?" _Just when I thought this day couldn't get more confusing_.

"They'll leave signs of a struggle-overturned furniture, drawn weapons, blood stains-to make it look like it wasn't an inside job."

"Makes sense," Morgana quickly agreed. _That way, Uther's men won't know exactly who they're hunting for. _"All right, what do they need from us?"

"Horses and supplies," Gwen said.

Morgana saw her fidget awkwardly again.

"What else, Gwen?"

"Um...and a diversion, tomorrow night," Gwen looked embarrassed. "They hoped you could help with that."

"I'm sure Gaius and I can think of something," Morgana mused with a smile, standing and crossing to her bedside table to retrieve a candle holder and taper. "I'll go see him right away."

Morgana whispered, "_Bryne_," and the candle flickered to life.

Gwen smiled at Morgana's comfortable display and rose as well. "It's been quite a bizarre week, hasn't it?"

Morgana laughed as she and Gwen headed for the chamber door. _Yes, it certainly has._

**A/N: Ok, did anyone realize it was Percival when Gwen met him last chapter?**

**Guest review replies:**

_**Guest: **_**Haha, I hope that means you approve! Thanks for the review! :)**

_**Nance:**_** Thanks for reviewing ch 34 & 35! Ok, I understand. :) Thanks for the feedback! I'm glad you enjoyed the plot developments in both of these chapters!**


	37. Chapter 37: Pick Your Poison

**A/N: Before anyone tries to stick me in the stocks and throw tomatoes (or potatoes) at me, yes, I know, this chapter is ridiculously, obscenely short. In order to do justice to the scenes that come immediately after it (which will by default be significantly longer), I wanted the extra day to work on them. So rather than skip a day of updating, you get a morsel of prose to tide you over. Okay? Ok. :)**

**On with the fic!**

Chapter 37: Pick Your Poison

"What about magical fireworks?" Morgana asked, then paused. "Can we even do magical fireworks?"

Gaius leaned back against the table from his perch on his bench and simply raised an eyebrow. They had been brainstorming diversion plans in Gaius' chambers for the last hour. It was very late and all the candles in the room were burning low. As the conversation wore on, the suggestions had gone from unusably mundane to increasingly implausible.

Morgana sighed dramatically and ran a hand through her long wavy tresses. _I'm at my wit's end…why can't either of us think of a viable plan?_

She resumed pacing and tried again.

"Hmm, what about poisoning Uther?"

"Morgana," Gaius said, his voice deathly serious. "That's treason. Don't even jest about that."

"I didn't mean actually kill him!" Morgana replied, affronted. "I meant just enough to create chaos in the council chambers during supper and keep all the guards and servants occupied."

Gaius shifted uncomfortably. "Poisons shouldn't be used lightly, even in non-lethal doses. I won't risk the king's life that way."

"What about me?" Morgana asked suddenly, spinning around to face Gaius.

"What do you mean?"

"Give _me_ a non-lethal dose," Morgana proposed, her hand gestures growing increasingly animated as the idea took shape in her mind. "Uther and the whole court will be distracted and it will allow you, me, and Gwen to all have valid alibis for-"

Gaius interrupted, "Morgana, I will not risk your life. That is out of the question."

"You can administer an antidote right away, so I'll be fine," Morgana countered.

Gaius crossed his arms.

"No."

"Or I could fake it entirely!" Morgana pleaded. _This is the only usable idea we've had so far-we've got to make it work!_

Gaius relaxed a little. He thought aloud, "Then I could administer an entirely benign potion and claim it's an antidote-"

Morgana clapped her hands and nearly jumped up and down. "Exactly! Perfect!"

Gaius stood and began looking through a shelf of vials as he mused further.

"Well done, Morgana-this just might work."

He retrieved a small bottle of green liquid and set it on the workbench before retrieving a pair of thick, worn volumes from a shelf. Sitting down at the table again, he slid one of the volumes across the table toward Morgana, who crossed the room and sat opposite him. She looked at him, then at the tomes, then back at him expectantly.

Gaius smiled and answered her unspoken question.

"Philumenus' _De venenatis animalibus eorumque remediis_, volumes one and two. We've got a lot of ground to cover. Time to 'pick your poison!'"

They both laughed and eagerly got to work.

**A/N: So what'd you think? Fun factoid, the Latin book title/author are actually legit—a physician of that name from roughly the 4****th**** century AD wrote a manuscript by that title about poisonous animals and remedies ;) Oh, the things one learns from obscure internet searches! ;)**

**Guest review replies:**

_**Nance:**_** Haha, your response was /exactly/ what I was aiming for when I wrote ch 35 & 36. ;) I'm so pleased you enjoyed it!**


	38. Chapter 38: Hemlock

**A/N: I am SO sorry I didn't get this posted yesterday as hoped. Real life intervened—a good friend had an emergency come up yesterday, so that naturally took priority over finishing this chapter. So please don't throw tomatoes, okay? :)**

**Anyway, this chapter was definitely interesting and challenging to write. Hopefully it will clear up some questions of motivation from earlier in the fic as well as advance the plot in a significant way. We'll check in with the Perilous Lands crew in Ch 39, I promise! I've already got most of it written! :)**

**On with the fic!**

Chapter 38: Hemlock

As Uther sat down to supper the following evening, his thoughts were dark. The past week had weighed heavier on his heart than any week since the death of his beloved Ygraine.

_Will I never escape the evils of magic?_ he thought bitterly.

Listlessly, he watched as the servants laid the final trays of food on the table. _First it stole her; now it's claimed our son._

He would never admit it to anyone-_a king should not appear weak_-but the past week had left him broken and empty, as if someone had hollowed out his heart. _Why couldn't it have been just an enchantment? _his heart cried. Without thinking, he slammed a fist on the table, setting the unfilled goblets rattling.

"Sire?" A timid serving boy looked at him with wide, worried eyes as he set the final tray on the table.

Uther shooed him away with a dismissive wave. _There's nothing you can do, boy._

His thoughts replayed the events of the past eight days. After calming from his initial blind rage at the possibility of magic infiltrating his very court, Uther had hoped desperately that there had been some mistake and Arthur had been falsely accused. As the evidence against him mounted, he shifted to hoping Arthur was just enchanted, not actually a traitor to everything Uther stood for. _But when he escaped, when he fled, well…_

If it had been anyone else, he would have held that as incontrovertible proof. _Why run from a fair trial and justice if you're innocent?_

But this was Arthur. His Arthur, who had _her_ eyes. When he smiled, it was _her_ smile. His Arthur wouldn't do this to him, wouldn't betray him this way. He had held onto a thread of hope that Arthur would be found and brought home, where he might still be cured of the accursed enchantment.

But then Aredian had brought the report that Arthur's traveling companions were Druids who fought the king's men with magic. The last thread of hope had snapped and so had he. His own words replayed in his head, torturing him during his waking hours and haunting him in his dreams: _Arthur Pendragon...traitor...guilty...consorting with sorcerers…dead or alive._

Uther heard the chamber doors creak open and looked up to see Lady Morgana enter.

_At least I still have her_, he thought as he rose to greet his ward.

She smiled brightly at him as they both sat down. Meals had been unbearable at first, but her presence had made them easier. He may have lost his son, but he still had his Morgana.

_My Morgana_. He smiled at her as they made small talk and began to eat.

A serving girl brought out a pitcher of wine and handed it to Morgana's maidservant to pour. Uther had never bothered to remember her name, he realized, as he was certain he'd heard it plenty of times, but he decided quickly that didn't really bother him.

The girl poured the wine into his cup, then turned to pour some into Morgana's.

"No, thank you, Gwen," Morgana smiled. "I'd rather just have some water, I think."

The maid-_Gwen, apparently_-placed the pitcher of wine on the table and turned to the serving girl who'd brought it.

"Please bring a pitcher of water for the Lady Morgana," Gwen said.

The serving girl curtseyed and hurried out of the chamber through the servants' door.

Morgana turned to Uther and remarked pleasantly, "I was thinking of going for a ride tomorrow morning, my lord. Would you care to join me?"

Uther smiled, then sighed. "I'm sorry, Morgana, but I'm afraid I can't. I've got a council meeting scheduled for the morning."

Morgana pouted slightly, "Oh, those meetings are so boring, and I feel as though we haven't spent any time together-just the two of us-recently."

_Time together...the two of us_. She had no idea the way that her words affected him. Now, more than ever, he craved her daughterly affection and loyalty. Suddenly that council meeting seemed a bit less urgent.

"And we could use some cheering up," Morgana smiled pleadingly. "Please?"

His resolve cracked. "Of course, Morgana. The council will just have to wait until I want to meet with them." He smiled. "I am the king, after all."

She smiled back at him. _Her big green eyes so like her mother's and—_

The return of the serving girl with a pitcher of water broke his train of thought. Morgana's maid Gwen poured her a goblet of the cold liquid and Morgana took a long, grateful swallow.

"I didn't realize how thirsty I was," she said cheerfully, setting the goblet back on the table.

She picked up her knife and fork and began to cut her meat on her plate as Uther reached for a cluster of grapes from the serving platter. Suddenly, she dropped her fork with a clatter against the pewter plate. Both Gwen and the serving girl jumped, startled by the noise.

"I'm sorry, my lord," Morgana said as she tried to pick up the utensil with trembling hands. "I'm suddenly feeling a bit-"

A choking cough prevented her from finishing her sentence. She heaved forward, trying to brace herself against the table as she struggled to draw a breath, but her hands were trembling and twitching too much. She collapsed on the table instead in a clatter of dishes, knocking her goblet over and spilling the water everywhere.

Uther leapt to his feet even as Gwen dropped the water pitcher with a clang and splash as she rushed to Morgana's side to help her.

"Guards!" Uther shouted, "Get Gaius immediately!"

His stomach clenched in fear. He knew poisoning when he saw it.

Everything was a blur after that. The refrain _Not her; not my Morgana!_ pounded in his mind like a blacksmith's hammer. He wasn't sure when Gaius arrived. He wasn't sure if Morgana passed out before or after that. It felt like a split second and an eternity. He found himself standing over an unconscious Morgana in Gaius' chambers, unsure exactly how and when they'd carried her there. Gaius was speaking to him, but he realized he hadn't heard what was said.

"Hmm?" He managed to croak out. His throat was dry from anxiety. _I can't lose her, too_.

"Sire? I said that I've given her antidote-a tincture of charcoal. It appears she was suffering from hemlock poisoning-"

Uther interrupted him. "I can't lose her, Gaius. She is everything to me now."

Gaius nodded kindly. "I understand, my lord. As I was about to say-"

"No, you don't understand. No one knows."

"Sire?" Gaius raised a confused eyebrow.

"I've lost my wife, my son...I can't bear to lose my daughter, too."

"Yes, sire, I know she is like a daughter to you, after all these years," Gaius began, but Uther cut him off again.

"No, she _is_ my daughter."

Gaius blinked at him.

"It was the spring after Ygraine-" Uther broke off, his voice choked with emotion. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Gorlois was away on a campaign...his wife Vivienne...grew lonely."

Uther sighed. Gaius had immediately regained his composure and waited silently for him to continue.

"She doesn't know-she can't know, not yet. With Arthur..._gone_, maybe I should...but not yet."

He raised his gaze from Morgana's pale, still face to meet Gaius' compassionate eyes. "But I can't lose her. I can't."

"Sire, she should make a full recovery. As I was saying, I administered the antidote in time. Her body is still recovering from the shock, though, so I doubt she'll wake again until morning."

Gaius placed a wrinkled, time-worn hand on the king's shoulder comfortingly.

"Perhaps you should get some sleep, sire. We've all been through quite an ordeal tonight."

**A/N: So what did you think? How'd you feel about seeing things from Uther's perspective for a change? I do hope to have ch 39 finished and posted tomorrow…I've already got most of it written. :)**

**Replies to guest reviews:**

_**Nance:**_** You're welcome! I hope it lived up to your hopes/expectations!**

_**Shanya Mahi**_**: I'm so glad you've been enjoying this so far! Thanks for taking the time to review! :D There is definitely lots of Mergana still to come!**


	39. Chapter 39: Sleepless Night

**A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews, favs, and follows! :) I'll reply to you each individually tomorrow :) For tonight, though, here's ch 39 as promised :)**

Chapter 39: Sleepless Night

Morgana waited impatiently where she lay on the patient's cot as Uther's footsteps faded away down the corridor. After what felt like an eternity, Gaius spoke.

"It's safe to open your eyes now."

Morgana immediately sat up. Gaius handed her a cup of water, which she downed gratefully.

"For a benign potion, that tasted _horrible_. What did you actually put in it?" she gasped.

"Tincture of charcoal, just like I said. The actual remedy for hemlock poisoning is harmless in small amounts even without the presence of the poison it's meant to neutralize."

"Remind me never to get poisoned with hemlock," Morgana muttered as she stood and crossed the room to refill her cup from the pitcher on the sideboard.

"Morgana," Gaius said gently.

She stayed where she was, facing away from him, focusing harder than necessary on the pitcher.

"Yes?" she said at last.

A single tear slipped down her cheek. She quickly brushed it away and focused unnecessarily hard on wiping away an invisible speck of dirt on the outside of her tin cup.

"Do you want to talk about it? We both know you heard everything the king said."

Morgana's stomach did a flip. It wasn't just because of the unpleasant remedy. She could feel her tenuous control on her emotions slipping despite her best efforts. She wished they could pretend that conversation hadn't happened. She reached for the pitcher and refilled her cup again, clinging to the normalcy of the task.

_I hate feeling out of control, feeling weak!_

Her control faltered. She slammed the water pitcher back down on the sideboard.

_I'm Uther's illegitimate daughter? No!_

"How do I talk about it, Gaius?" She said through gritted teeth as she leaned with both hands on the sideboard.

_Pull yourself together! _She berated herself.

"Morgana, I know this must be hard for you."

Morgana snorted, allowing her sarcastic streak to surface and buffer the pain. "That's an understatement."

_I feel dirty by association. _Her stomach turned over again.

"I think I'm going to be-"

Morgana didn't finish her sentence. She rushed to the waste-water bucket in the corner and dry-heaved violently over it. As the gagging subsided, the sobs finally came.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

In the midst of the pandemonium in the throne room over the imperiled health of the Lady Morgana, no one gave any thought to what one prisoner and two guards might be doing unobserved several levels below in the dungeons. No one heard the cell lock being opened or goat's blood being splattered intentionally across the floors. No one heard the thuds of the guards' chairs and table being turned over. No one heard the clang of weapons being dropped haphazardly on the floor. No one saw three men disappear into a hidden tunnel, and no one saw them emerge at the other end. No one so much as looked out a window to see three silhouettes riding away northward under the cover of darkness.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Meanwhile, four days' ride north, Merlin tossed and turned in his bed. His mind raced as he processed the day's events: the wyvern attack, getting to know his father, and a rather peculiar conversation with Gwaine just before they all turned in for the night.

Balinor had led them up another two flights of stairs to a pair of adjoining chambers. He'd lit fires magically in both fireplaces and cleaned and repaired the neglected bed frames. Arthur claimed one room and bed, leaving Gwaine and Merlin to negotiate arrangements for the other.

The two men stood just inside the doorway, staring at their shared room. It was surprisingly comfortable for being in a fortress that hadn't been properly lived in for nearly twenty years. However, there was one glaring problem: only one bed.

"Well," Gwaine said, flipping his hair out of his eyes casually, "This will be cozy."

Merlin eyed him uncertainly. "We could flip a coin for it?"

"Aww, c'mon, mate. It's just body heat. What's the fuss?"

"Bad experiences..." Merlin muttered crossly as he shut the chamber door and dropped his saddlebags in a heap next to him.

"What?"

"Put my bedroll too close to Arthur's on a hunting trip last spring-it was really cold and we were trying to stay warm," Merlin explained awkwardly, "And apparently, he thought I was Gwen in his sleep. I woke up to him trying to cuddle me." Merlin twitched at the memory. "Never again."

Gwaine threw back his head and laughed. "So Princess has a lady friend? What, some fancy princess?"

"No, Gwen's not a princess."

"What, then? A Lady? A duchess?"

"Nope!" Merlin laughed. "She's a servant like me."

Gwaine stared at him. "You're pulling my leg."

Merlin just smiled impishly and raised an eyebrow.

"A servant? The Princess, in love with a servant?"

"Apparently," Merlin grinned.

Gwaine ran his hand through his hair thoughtfully.

"Between that and my chat with him this afternoon, I'm beginning to think you might be right about him, mate."

Gwaine strode past him further into the room and dropped his saddlebags on the floor by the fireplace.

"Wait!" Merlin said. "What 'chat'?"

"Oh, nothing much-just a bit of a history lesson about the Dragonlords and the nature of magic." Gwaine shrugged and looked around as Merlin stood blinking at him.

"Go on, have the bed," Gwaine added. "I'll be fine here by the fire."

Merlin continued to stare.

"What?" Gwaine said at last.

"'_What?_'" Merlin mimicked. "You can't just say something like that and not explain!" He glared at Gwaine.

"Oi, fine, what do you want to know?" the man said, looking very amused.

Merlin, however, was not. "Start at the beginning."

**A/N: So now both the Camelot and Perilous Lands timelines are caught up to the same point. And **_**phew!**_**, Merlin and Morgana have each had quite a day—finding his long-lost father and learning the father she'd lost wasn't really her father at all!**

**So what'd you think? :)**


	40. Chapter 40: After Darkness Comes Dawn

**A/N: Thanks for all the feedback! :) Here's ch 40 as promised!**

**Disclaimer: I didn't write the song text that Merlin sings in this chapter—it's a Scottish Gaelic lament; public domain by now I think. (So yes, not Old English either…please forgive the discrepancy…I really wanted to use this.) **

**Anyway, the melody is hauntingly beautiful—I highly recommend listening to it on YouTube or something. It will make the chapter/scene make more sense emotionally, I think. It's called **_**Ailein Duinn**_**—there are lots of recordings of it. The translation is at the end of this chapter.**

Chapter 40: After Darkness Comes the Dawn

After a poor night's sleep, Merlin rose before dawn. He tiptoed across the chamber, passing Gwaine, who was muttering happily in his sleep on his bedroll by the fire. Merlin thought he caught the words "apple pie" and "cheese" between nonsense syllables, but he couldn't be sure. _Doesn't anyone I know have normal sleep habits?_ he wondered vaguely as he slipped out the door and shut it carefully behind him.

Arthur would not be awake yet, either, he knew. Even after a week on the run, the Prince still slept until someone woke him or something startled his warrior instincts back to consciousness. Fortunately, Merlin wanted-_no, needed_-the time to be alone, to think. _As if I didn't spend half the night doing that already_.

He followed the spiral stairs up and up until he reached a small door at the very top. He cautiously pushed it open. He was at the zenith of the fortress, standing on the large, flat roof ringed with crenellated battlements. The scorched and scarred Perilous Lands stretched out below him in all directions as far as the eye could see. The sun was just rising in the east, casting stark shadows across the landscape.

_It looks even more lonely like this_, Merlin thought as he leaned on the battlements pensively.

He tried to sort through his thoughts. Words and faces swirled around in his mind's eye._ Focus_, he commanded himself.

Freya's kind eyes and smile floated to the forefront of his mind, drowning his confused heart in a wave of fresh sorrow.

Words bubbled up from his soul, the language of the Old Religion soothing his aching spirit. He gave them melody, pouring all his heartache and loss into them:

_Gura mise tha fo éislean,_

_Moch 's a' mhadainn is mi 'g éirigh_

_Ò hì shiùbhlainn leat,_

_Hì ri bhò hò ru bhì,_

_Hì ri bhò hò rionn o ho,_

_Freya duinn,_

_ò hì shiùbhlainn leat._

Tears slipped down his face unbidden. He didn't hear the small door open quietly behind him as someone joined him on the battlements. He continued pouring forth his lament like the waters that now covered her.

_Ma 's e cluasag dhut a' ghainneamh,_

_Ma 's e leabaidh dhut an fheamainn_

_Ò hì shiùbhlainn leat,_

_Hì ri bhò hò ru bhì,_

_Hì ri bhò hò rionn o ho,_

_Freya duinn,_

_ò hì shiùbhlainn leat._

"Who was Freya, Merlin?" Balinor asked quietly from behind him. Startled, Merlin hastily wiped the tears from his face and spun to face his father.

"She was...a Druid."

"How did you lose her, son?" Balinor asked gently, but the words still made Merlin's heart ache.

"She...died. A bounty hunter killed her." Merlin felt fury replacing his grief, building like a tidal wave. "He was working for Uther."

Balinor could obviously feel the effect the memory was having on Merlin's magic, because he carefully asked, "Merlin, what did you do?"

Merlin looked away.

"I…" a lump in his throat stopped him. He swallowed and tried again. "I killed him. The bounty hunter, I mean."

"How?" Balinor asked evenly.

_Why do you need to know?_ Merlin thought to himself, an ounce of shame mixing with his anger.

Aloud he said as casually as he could, "Does it matter?"

Balinor looked him up and down, as if he understood something Merlin did not. "Yes."

"I burned him."

"In defense?"

"...Not exactly."

"Revenge, then?"

Merlin nodded mutely and turned away to lean on the battlements, his gaze fixed unseeing on the eastern horizon. Balinor sighed and crossed the roof to lean next to him. Eventually, Balinor broke the silence.

"I once wanted revenge, too."

Merlin turned to look at him.

"Against Uther?"

Balinor nodded, his deep eyes sad. "And everyone who helped him hunt down and kill the Dragonlords. Everyone who drove me from Camelot, from your mother, and pursued me here."

"Gwaine told me," Merlin said quietly. "At least, he told me what the lore and rumors say."

"They're mainly true," Balinor said, "With the Dragonlords gone, I alone held the claim to the ancient throne of the Fortress King-in the language of the Old Religion, the _Feasten Cyning_, which over time was corrupted to Fisher King. With nowhere else to go-when no one was safe harboring me-I came here to take up the ancient mantle."

Balinor glanced at Merlin before continuing. "When I first came here, I was utterly adrift, filled with rage. I wanted Uther to feel my pain. I let the wyverns slaughter his men at will."

Balinor ran a hand through his hair before admitting, "I could have stopped them, could have saved hundreds of lives by calling them off and giving myself up, but I wanted Camelot to suffer as I and my kin had suffered."

He turned to Merlin and placed a hand on his shoulder. "All that slaughter, all that death, did nothing to quench the pain I felt at what I had lost. I lost many years to the darkness of bitterness."

Merlin's eyes glistened again with unshed tears. He looked at his father and laid his heart bare.

"How do I do anything else?" He looked away. "You survived the grief and rage-but I don't know how."

He dropped his voice to a whisper. "All this power-I'm afraid of what I'll become."

"That is exactly what separates you from Uther, my son," Balinor said. "You know that forgiveness is the better path."

"How do I forgive?" Merlin asked brokenly.

"That, my son, will take time."

Merlin looked back out to the horizon, first east, then south as the rising sun was now too bright to look at. In the southern skies, he saw several dark shapes, one small one surrounded by several large ones. He instantly recognized them.

"Ambrosius!" he cried.

Balinor followed his gaze. "It's the wyverns. Is that bird seeking you?"

"Yes! He carries messages from Camelot!"

Balinor shouted, "_Drákos-eídos, akoúste me! Afí̱ste kai na mi̱n vlápsoun!_"

The wyverns immediately pulled back and flew off towards the rising sun. Ambrosius flew crookedly to the battlements and collapsed into Merlin's outstretched arms.

"His wing-he's wounded!" Merlin gasped.

"Heal him," Balinor replied evenly.

Merlin whipped his head around to look at his father, then looked away, ashamed.

"I don't know how."

"Then let me teach you."

Balinor held out his hands for the injured bird. He thought for a moment, then said, "Repeat this and hold your hand over his wing: _fiðere ábrocen, þurhhæle_."

Merlin held out his hand and repeated the spell fervently.

"_Fiðere ábrocen, þurhhæle_!" His eyes flared gold.

Ambrosius' wing knit itself back together and the wound sealed itself. Merlin looked up at Balinor in relief.

"See," Balinor said with a smile, "You have your mother's kindness. I believe you will in time master forgiveness-even for the likes of Uther."

**A/N: So what'd you think? Here's the song text translation as promised:**

_**Verse 1**_

_**How sorrowful I am**_

_**When I rise early in the morning**_

_**Chorus**_

_**Ò hì I would walk with you.**_

_**Hì ri bhò hò ru bhì,**_

_**Hì ri bhò hò rionn o ho,**_

_**Brown-haired [Freya], Ò hì,**_

_**I would walk with you.**_

_**Verse 2**_

_**If the sand be your pillow,**_

_**If the seaweed be your bed**_

_**(Repeat Chorus)**_

**/\/\/\/\/\/\/\**

**Guest Review Replies:**

_**Nance: **_**Thanks for reviewing ch 38 & 39! Yeah, Morgana has a lot to process now and it will take her a while. I'm going to leave any details of "grew lonely" appropriately vague in this fic…I'm not sure exactly how many of my readers are relatively young, but I know there are quite a few, so I plan to keep all references to the apparent affair as PG as possible. :) I'm pleased you liked Morgana's reaction in ch 39, as well as the tone of the escape paragraph. Thanks again!**

_**Shadow-hawk Opal:**_** Thanks for reviewing ch 37 & 38! I'm glad you're enjoying this fic so much! Plenty of Mergana to come! Don't worry, I'm in this for the long haul. We're maybe half-way done, but I fully intend to finish it! Thanks for your kind compliments :)**

_**Guest**_**: Thanks for reading and reviewing ch 23, 32, and 39! :) Yeah, that's an anachronistic phrase in ch 32, but then again, they threw tomatoes and potatoes when Merlin was in the stocks in the series, which weren't actually available in Europe until after the discovery of the New World (somewhere between 400-900 years later, depending on which historical setting of the legends the writers were using for the time-period), so I feel like I'm justified, haha! ;) The entire idiom of the show (and this fic) is very modern, but I've been trying to keep non-dialogue things historically consistent with sometime in the Middle Ages or with the canon of the show. In regard to your questions/pleas in your ch 39 review: Yes to all, actually! ;)**


	41. Chapter 41: Out of the Frying Pan

**A/N: Thanks you so much for the enthusiastic response to ch 40! Y'all made my day :)**

**FYI, today's chapter contains three vignettes which set up the next phases of the plot/action. :)**

Chapter 41: Out of the Frying Pan

Satisfied that the bird had been restored to full health, Merlin unrolled the message that had been attached to Ambrosius' leg. Before he had time to read it, the small door to the staircase burst open and Gwaine tumbled out onto the roof, letting the door shut swiftly behind him as he rolled to a stop, panting, on the paving stones.

He took one look at the startled pair and the bird before announcing, "We heard you two shouting. You'd better come up with a good explanation, because you have less than a minute before Arthur barrels through that door."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Where are the guards who were on duty last night?" Uther bellowed to the guards and knights gathered in the council chambers just after sunrise.

A huge guard stepped forward slowly, his timidity in the face of Uther's wrath forming an almost comical contrast to his looming stature.

"Sire, they're dead...probably."

"What do you mean, 'probably'?" Uther snarled, taking an aggressive step forward.

The guard shrunk back slightly. "There are blood stains and signs of a struggle, but…"

He hesitated. Uther narrowed his eyes.

"But what?" he said through clenched teeth.

"...No bodies, sire."

"Sire?" Gaius interjected smoothly, stepping forward. "I have examined the blood stains he spoke of. If I may offer my professional, the amount of blood lost would be enough to incapacitate the victim but likely not prove fatal. It seems likely that an outside party attacked, freed the prisoner, and kidnapped the injured guards-all while we were occupied treating the Lady Morgana."

He clasped his hands in front of him, the very picture of an expert on the subject. "As we have been unable to find a clear source of the poison used against her, it is likely that the attackers had magic and used it to target the Lady Morgana with the poison directly."

He stepped back, inclining his head deferentially, ever the perfect life-long servant of the Crown.

Uther's temper had been churning before. Now it truly erupted.

"Emrys must be behind this!" he screamed, causing everyone in the room to flinch. "Find him and the prisoner-they will pay for their crimes!"

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

A solitary rider rode into the village of Mold late in the morning, tired from two and a half days on the road. He dismounted in the town square and looked wistfully at the tavern before turning away. His mission came first. He tethered his tired horse and crossed to the nearest market booth. Surrounded by piles of fresh vegetables, an elderly woman sat beside a young lad. _Probably her grandson_, the rider thought.

The elderly vegetable seller greeted him warmly. "Welcome, stranger. Do you need provisions before journeying on?"

"No," he replied, not unkindly. "I bear a message from Camelot. I need to speak to your village elder immediately. It is of the utmost urgency."

She directed her grandson to assist him. The boy led him down the lane to a cottage somewhat larger than its neighbors. The messenger rapped firmly on the door. A tall, thin man with graying temples and a long taupe robe opened the door and ushered him inside. The boy waited outside as he was told.

The two men emerged not five minutes later. The village elder spoke urgently to the boy, who obediently raced off down the narrow lane. The messenger followed the elder to the raised platform surrounding the town's well as the villagers assembled, heeding the summons the lad had carried.

"My neighbors, this man brings a message direct from the court of King Uther in Camelot." The elder stepped aside deferentially as the messenger cleared his throat.

"People of the Kingdom of Camelot, I bear an official decree from the King."

There was a pregnant pause as everyone waited nervously to hear the new decree.

"Arthur Pendragon, formerly Crown Prince of Camelot, has been found guilty of consorting with sorcerers and has fled the city. For his treason, he is stripped of his title and inheritance, effective immediately."

The villagers gasped. Even the people in the outlying lands knew how well-liked and respected their Crown Prince was, even if they had never seen him. It was shocking to hear of such a betrayal.

The messenger continued, "There is a reward of one thousand gold pieces for his capture, dead or alive. There is, likewise, a reward of one hundred gold pieces for information leading to his capture, dead or alive."

The people murmured to one another. That was an awful lot of money.

"He is believed to be traveling with his servant, who goes by the name of Merlin, and at least one other, who is believed to be a dangerous Druid."

A middle-aged man-the town butcher-spoke up from the middle of the crowd. "Didn't one of those strange men what came through 'ere two days ago call himself Merlin? The ones that bought supplies, headed for the Perilous Lands?"

The tavern owner piped up, "I thought there was something fishy about 'em-seemed too posh for the usual sort what travels to the Perilous Lands."

The messenger felt his exhaustion vanishing, replaced by a fresh rush of adrenaline. He couldn't believe his luck. He'd doubted that anyone on his route would know anything about the traitorous Prince's whereabouts, but he seemed to have stumbled directly upon their trail.

"Tell me everything you know, quickly!" the messenger addressed the townspeople. He turned to the elder. "And I'll need a fresh horse. I will return to Camelot with this news immediately."

**A/N: Although the structure was a bit different than previous chapters, I hope you enjoyed this! What'd you think? Are you excited for the chain reactions that each of these vignettes ignited? ;)**

**Guest review replies:**

_**Nance**_**: Thanks for reviewing ch 40! I'm so pleased that you liked the father-son teachable moment and that it rang true without being too heavy-handed :) Don't worry, I've grown pretty attached to Ambrosius myself ;) I'll see what I can do! ;)**


	42. Chapter 42: Obfuscation

**A/N: Wow, thanks for the feedback! I really appreciate you all! I've PM'd everyone I could, and I've replied to **_**Nance**_**'s guest review at the end of this chapter.**

_**An unfortunately necessary PSA with regard to reviews: **_

**For the very first time since posting this fic, I felt compelled to delete/not approve a particular guest review today. I believe you're all entitled to your opinions, so you can saw whatever you like about my writing, no matter how negative, and I'll approve it. Someone wants to say that I'm a terrible writer and should never put pen to paper again? Sure, I'll approve that—it's your opinion! In general, my policy is only to check for and filter out profanity before approving everything (fortunately there hasn't been any yet…thanks, y'all). **

**But today I had a review that crossed a line into unkind and rather gross (a rather graphic and demeaning description of exactly how they anticipated wyverns eating Knights of Camelot). I know there are injuries, blood, and death in my fic, but I really do try to be respectful both of readership and of human dignity/value in general (even if we are just dealing with fictional characters here).**

**Y'all, I won't approve things that are just mean-spirited towards or disrespectful of human life in general. It made my stomach turn just reading it. So I'm sorry, anonymous guest reviewer, for calling you out publicly (I'd prefer to PM but I couldn't since you weren't logged in). But I figure it doesn't hurt to make it clear that I don't want to read reviews like that and probably neither does anyone else. So please, everyone, go ahead and review—state any opinion you like—but don't be gross or belittle human life in the process, ok? Ok. Thanks! :) **_**[End PSA]**_

**Ok, now that that's taken care of, we can return to the reason we're all here and why this community is generally so positive and supportive: fun stories!**

**On with the fic! :D**

Chapter 42: Obfuscation

"_You'd better come up with a good explanation, because you have less than a minute before Arthur barrels through that door."_

As Gwaine scrambled to his feet, Merlin stuffed the message into the pocket of his trousers. Before he could think of a plan, Arthur crashed through the door, out of breath and sword drawn defensively. He pulled up short when he saw the three men staring wide-eyed at him. His eyes quickly came to rest on Ambrosius, healed but still in Balinor's arms.

"What, for the love of Camelot, is going on up here?" Arthur demanded, not lowering his sword.

_Think!_ Merlin chided himself.

By some strange coincidence, he and Gwaine answered at the same time: "Balinor dabbles in falconry!"

"Falconry?" Arthur looked unimpressed. "_That _was what all the shouting was about?"

Merlin opened his mouth to try again, but Balinor beat him to it.

"The art of falconry is surprisingly similar to the art of the Dragonlord, your highness."

All three young men turned and stared at him.

"Birds and dragons are really quite similar, you see," he continued, sliding comfortably into a tone of voice that reminded Merlin of Geoffrey of Monmouth when he was about to commence a tangent about his favorite topic: royal biographies. It was a tone that subliminally shouted, _Run, before I bore you to death_.

_Either it's true or he's ridiculously good at bluffing_, Merlin thought, impressed either way.

Arthur raised an eyebrow in what Merlin thought was an excellent imitation of Gaius.

Balinor continued, "Besides the obvious wing structure collation, both are natural hunters, innately intelligent, nocturnal, and the intraspecies communication patterns share the same-"

Arthur mercifully cut him off, rubbing a hand across his eyes wearily.

"Fine, fine. I get it. In the future, can you save the falconry demonstrations for a less ungodly hour?"

"Of course, Arthur," Balinor said pleasantly.

Merlin thought he saw a momentary flash of relief cross his father's features. _He _was_ bluffing!_ he thought. _That was...incredible._ As Arthur turned and clomped back down the stairs, Merlin allowed himself a relieved grin.

Gwaine spoke quietly, "I'll make sure he goes back to bed so you two can finish your 'falconry' lesson." He winked at Merlin and followed Arthur down the stairs, leaving Merlin, Balinor, and Ambrosius alone again.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Elyan, Lancelot, and Percival had ridden through the night without incident. Once it was fully light, however, they made camp in the depths of the Darkling Woods, lest word of their flight had already spread.

They ground-hobbled the horses so they could graze but not wander or bolt, then settled in for some hard earned rest. Though the days were getting chillier as autumn set in properly, they opted not to build a fire. Instead, they laid the bedrolls Gwen had procured for them in a tight line in a copse of sturdy evergreens that blocked much of the wind. Percival volunteered for the first shift of the watch.

As Elyan and Lancelot lay down and waited for sleep to come, Lancelot mused drowsily, "So, Elyan, you never really told us what else you knew about Arthur and Merlin's plans."

"You were my guards-what did you expect?" Elyan replied, a hint of amusement in his sleepy tone.

"But we're not anymore," Lancelot chuckled, "I think we've made that pretty clear."

Percival nodded in agreement.

Elyan continued, "To be honest, I couldn't have betrayed Arthur even if I'd wanted to-"

At a stern look from Lancelot, he quickly added, "-Not that I would! What I meant was that I don't know anything else. The three of them had only arrived a couple of hours earlier."

He stretched and tucked his hands behind his head.

"They'd only really told me about what had happened in Camelot and I'd asked them how Gwen was doing."

Lancelot's expression grew sad, which both of his companions noticed but graciously ignored.

"I don't think they even knew where they were headed at the time."

Percival suddenly broke his customary silence.

"So how did Morgana, Gwen, and Gaius know where they would be headed next?"

Elyan looked at Percival in surprise.

"That was an awful lot of words at once, Percival. Are you sure you're feeling all right?" he teased.

Percival shrugged but said nothing. Elyan laughed. After a moment, he said thoughtfully, "You've a good point, though."

He rolled his head to the left to look at Lancelot. "Any ideas?"

Lancelot glanced at Elyan briefly, then looked away as he said, "I'm sure I wouldn't know. I wasn't close to Lady Morgana, and Gwen and I hadn't spoken in months."

"What about Gaius?" Percival asked. "You spoke often of him."

Lancelot shifted uneasily. "He didn't say anything about it to me." There was a brief, slightly awkward pause, as though he was trying to hide something. "Maybe Merlin told Gaius something before they left?" he suggested, but even he sounded unconvinced.

Percival broke his customary silence a second time. "They say the last of the Dragonlords still dwells in the Perilous Lands. Do you think they went to him for sanctuary?"

This time, both Elyan and Lancelot looked at him in surprise.

"Percival, my friend, you're turning into a regular orator," Lancelot teased as the tension he'd exhibited moments before disappeared with the topic change.

"Why would they go there?" Elyan asked, confused.

Percival, however, had apparently used up his daily quota of words and merely shrugged.

Lancelot thought aloud, "Well, Gaius did always strike me as sympathetic to magic users...maybe he suggested it to Merlin before they left as a contingency plan?"

"Eh, good enough for me," Elyan sighed, closing his eyes. "I won't be losing sleep over it, at least."

"Same here," Lancelot agreed, his voice strangely tinged with what sounded suspiciously like relief.

Silence fell over the makeshift camp and sleep soon followed as the sun crept higher overhead.

**A/N: What'd you think? I have to admit I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, but I didn't want to leave y'all with yesterday's cliffhanger any longer, so I went ahead and posted it. :/**

**Guest Review Replies:**

_**Nance**_**: I'm so pleased you liked the vignette style of ch 41! Thank you for the multitude of compliments! :D No, I'm not a professional writer, just a musician ;) But it'd be really cool if I could be someday…we'll see how that original novel I'm working on turns out when I finally get back to it, hehe! ;)**


	43. Chapter 43: Tête-à-tête

**A/N: Thanks for the feedback on ch 42! Here's some Morgana/Gwen bonding ;)**

**Warning (sort of): This chapter sort of earns its T rating because there's some pretty grown-up subjects hinted at during Morgana & Gwen's convo as Morgana continues processing the bad news she's heard. Nothing stated outright, but still this might be a bit much for very, very young readers. So yeah, do what you will with this sort-of warning. :)**

Chapter 43: Tête-à-tête

Morgana had sufficiently "recovered" by morning. Shortly after receiving the guards' report in the council chambers about the escaped prisoner, Uther had come to Gaius' chambers to check on her. She and Gaius had both assured him that, while she still felt quite weak from her ordeal, she would be fine. Gaius had prescribed a day of bed rest and, with Uther and Gwen's assistance, had escorted Morgana to her chambers. After seeing that she was properly tucked into bed, Uther and Gaius had promptly departed to attend a council meeting, leaving Morgana and Gwen alone.

As soon as she was sure the king and physician were out of earshot, Morgana leapt from her bed and began pacing. Gwen watched, a worried expression evident in her kind brown eyes.

"What's wrong, Morgana? You seem upset," Gwen asked.

Morgana exhaled forcefully. "Apparently, Uther is my father."

"_Pardon_?" Gwen asked, utterly confused.

Morgana stopped pacing to face her friend.

"He told Gaius last night, while he thought I was unconscious."

"But...how? And why has he never told you?"

Morgana snorted. "The 'how' seems rather obvious. My parents' marriage evidently wasn't as happy as they made it seem."

She began pacing again.

"And as to 'why,' well, I wish I knew."

She picked up a throw pillow from the bed in passing, twisting it agitatedly in her hands as she crossed to the window. She stared out into the sunny courtyard. The bright day was at odds with her stormy mood.

"I wish I didn't know," she said softly, her stomach churning like it had the night before.

Gwen padded over softly and laid a comforting hand on Morgana's shoulder.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she said simply.

"No...and yes."

Gwen waited patiently until Morgana spoke again.

"Everything I believed about my family, my childhood, was a lie." She let the final word trail off in a whisper. "It's like losing my family all over again."

Gwen said nothing but wrapped Morgana in a hug, throw pillow and all. _Bless Gwen_, Morgana thought as she returned the hug, clinging to her dearest friend. _She always knows exactly what I need_.

Morgana let the tears slip silently down her cheeks. The nauseated feeling was gone for the moment, replaced by a heartsick ache she hadn't felt since her father was killed in battle and she was sent to live in Camelot. Gwen simply rubbed her back and let her cry.

When she had no more tears left, Morgana stepped back and wiped her tear-stained cheeks.

"Thank you," she said simply, as Gwen fetched a handkerchief dipped in water from the sideboard to soothe Morgana's puffy, red eyes.

Morgana tossed the throw pillow back onto the bed and flopped down on her back on her soft mattress. Gwen perched on the foot of the bed, her knees drawn daintily up to her chest and her back propped against the bedpost. Still she waited for Morgana to speak first.

"Uther doesn't know that I know," Morgana finally volunteered, staring up at the ceiling pensively.

"Do you think he plans to tell you?" Gwen asked, playing absently with the embroidered hem of her half apron.

"I honestly don't know. I'm not sure he's decided yet."

Morgana sighed and tucked her left arm behind her head.

"I think I understand why he didn't before," she continued slowly, thinking out loud. "Uther hates to confess anything, let alone something like this. My father was his best friend."

Gwen nodded sympathetically.

"And even after I came here, there was no need. Arthur's his legitimate heir and he's older than me, so there wasn't any reason to tell anyone."

Morgana shrugged miserably.

"But now, with everything that's-" she stopped herself short and tried again. "Uther thinks he doesn't have an heir any more. So he may feel he has to confess if he wants his house to continue in Camelot."

"Hmm," Gwen agreed. Suddenly her eyes grew wide. "I just thought of something."

"What?"

"This means Arthur's your brother!"

Despite the gravity of the situation, Morgana couldn't contain a chuckle at Gwen's shocked expression.

"So when you marry Arthur, we'll be sisters!" Morgana realized gleefully.

Gwen blushed Pendragon red and looked down bashfully as Morgana wiggled her eyebrows playfully at her.

All of sudden, Morgana's stomach dropped. _I'm Arthur's sister_, she thought._ And we used to flirt_.

"Uther's a horrid prat," Morgana muttered through gritted teeth.

"What?" Gwen asked, concerned at Morgana's sudden mood swing.

Morgana propped herself up on her elbows to meet Gwen's gaze. "Remember when he let Arthur and me-well, everyone, actually-believe that Arthur and I would eventually marry and I'd be queen?" She continued her tirade mentally. _Of all the disgusting, low, deceitful things..._

"Oh," Gwen said, suddenly understanding. "_Oh_."

"Exactly," Morgana muttered.

They sat in awkward silence for several moments before Gwen finally broke it.

"So what do we do now?"

Morgana shook herself out of her dark thoughts and sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and stretching her neck from side to side.

"We talk about something else for a while-something pleasant." _I don't think I can think about this anymore right now_. "And I'd love to see about something for this rubbish headache."

"Let me take care of that," Gwen said, hopping off the bed and hurrying towards the door. She paused, her hand on the latch, and turned back to Morgana, a teasing twinkle in her eyes.

"And when I get back, you can tell me all about how you're coming along with sorting out your feelings about _Merlin_."

Morgana groaned dramatically and lobbed the soft throw pillow at Gwen as she dashed out the door.

**A/N: Thoughts? Comments? Suggestions? :D**

**Guest review replies:**

_**Nance**_**: Thanks for reviewing ch 42! I'm so glad that made you laugh! I had fun writing it ;) I agree about Gwaine's loyalty :) Thanks so much for your kind words about the characterization/dialogue of the knights-to-be! That was honestly the part I was most dissatisfied with when I posted it, so I'm really glad to hear that it read better than I'd expected! :)**


	44. Chapter 44: Feelings

**A/N: Thanks, everyone, for your patience the last few days…I took a much-needed 3-day hiatus from writing to rest and renew my enthusiasm for this story, as well as to reevaluate some plot-threads I was wrestling with. I'm pleased to say that was successful and that the newly-sorted plot developments will be showing up very shortly. ;) I may get to post a second chapter tonight, but since this felt very separate thematically from what comes immediately after it, I wanted to go ahead and post it separately.**

**As an aside, I'm thinking that I will take a "sabbath" day off each week, just so I have a day to rework any plot problems that arise without feeling pressured to turn out a chapter at the same time. ;) So future updates will probably happen 6 days a week. :)**

**By reviewer-request, we have a vignette where Gwen is persistent and Morgana is a bit, well, embarrassed…**

**On with the fic! :D**

Chapter 44: Feelings

"He's clumsy...and sort of rumpled...and...and…" Morgana fished for something else to wrap up her sentence. "And his ears stick out," she finished lamely.

Gwen raised one eyebrow appraisingly. She had been true to her word—as soon as she'd returned with the headache tonic from Gaius, she'd insisted on asking Morgana about her feelings towards Merlin.

"Well, you've stated the obvious, but you still haven't answered my question," Gwen pressed.

Morgana looked away, feigning nonchalance, "What was the question again?"

_Why can't she just drop it?_ she thought.

But Gwen was undeterred.

"I said, what do you think of Merlin?"

"But I just told you," Morgana said, flustered, "How is that not answering the question?"

"Because you didn't say anything about your _feelings_."

_I'm not good with feelings_, Morgana thought in frustration. But this was Gwen, her best friend, second only to Merlin himself in her stubbornness when she wanted to be. There was no way Gwen would let Morgana out of this conversation unless she at least made an attempt to talk about her oh-so-elusive _feelings_.

She sighed. _Why did I ever admit any of this in the first place?_ It was, unfortunately, too late to change that, so she tried to plow ahead.

"Umm, well," she began, berating herself for her inarticulateness even as Gwen clapped her hands gleefully at Morgana's honest tone. "Uh, I mean, I think he's...sweet."

"Now we're getting somewhere!" Gwen was triumphant. "Go on."

Morgana heaved an overly dramatic sigh for Gwen's benefit before taking another stab at explaining her inner confusion. "And, um…"

Suddenly an idea struck her.

"If you're so particular about what you want to know," she teased her servant-friend, "Then you can at least help me out by asking specific questions."

_That might make this a bit easier_.

Gwen's expression conveyed that she knew Morgana was still trying to get out of the awkward conversation, but she obliged and began asking specific questions, rewarding Morgana with delighted expressions each time Morgana made a truthful effort to answer.

"When did you first notice Merlin?"

"Um, probably the first day he came to Camelot? He was in the crowd during an execution and I was looking out of my window. He looked up at me."

"It was his eyes, right?" Gwen said with a small smirk, evidently recalling her own distant memory of a crush on the manservant.

Morgana just blushed and Gwen graciously moved on.

"All right, so you fancied him right away, before you'd even met him," Gwen seemed pleased as punch to be making headway on the topic. "But what made you actually like him? You've never liked a commoner before-"

Gwen paused and corrected herself, "Actually, I don't think you've seriously liked anybody before."

Morgana protested, "But we were just talking about Arthur…"

Gwen interrupted, displaying an apparently clearer grasp of Morgana's emotions that Morgana herself had managed, "We both know that doesn't count. You never really liked him-you just thought you had no choice and were trying to make the best of it by forcing sparks."

"How do you know?"

"Well, I know you...and that's how Arthur felt about it, too."

Morgana smiled. _Gwen's impressive-she even got _Arthur_ to talk about feelings! _

A new thought struck her. _Trouble with feelings must run in the family-Uther, Arthur, and...me. _

She sat up straighter, purposefully ignoring the pang in her heart regarding the one topic she was trying to avoid even more than this conversation with Gwen. _Well, I guess if Arthur can survive her questions, so can I._ Maybe that not-so-faux-sibling rivalry streak was still good for something, she mused as Gwen revisited the still-unanswered question.

"So why Merlin? You've never seriously considered a servant before."

"Because...I feel, I don't know, safe with him, somehow," Morgana looked at Gwen and took a deep breath before admitting, "He was the one who sent me to the Druids."

Gwen looked slightly hurt.

"He knew before I did?"

"I'm sorry; I didn't know who to trust. I was so scared...so alone," Morgana looked away, twirling one stray curl nervously in her fingers. "I went to Gaius for help one night but he wasn't there-just Merlin."

"So you told him," Gwen finished for her, taking Morgana's hand and giving it a friendly squeeze. "I understand. And you're not alone anymore."

**A/N: Aww, cue warm fuzzies! ;) Hopefully that didn't come across too cheesy ;) Let me know what y'all think! I do try to use suggestions when possible—this whole chapter came from one guest reviewer's suggestion. ;)**

**Guest review replies:**

_**Nance:**_** Thanks for your kind words. I'm glad you liked that Gwen/Morgana scene, and I hope this one was equally enjoyable. :)**

_**Guest**_**: Thanks for reviewing ch 43! As you can see from ch 44, I took your suggestion/request and ran with it…hope you like the result! I'm so pleased you liked the bluffing scene! ;)**


	45. Chapter 45: Conscience

**A/N: 2****nd**** chapter of the day! Longer, more narrative in style, and considerably less fluffy, but hopefully still enjoyable—setting up the next big developments in the main plot arc and some important subplots to boot. ;)**

**On with the fic!**

Chapter 45: Conscience

The next morning, Uther and his council convened to hear updates on the search for his fugitive son. In addition to the regular council members, there were a few unusual faces in attendance. Uther had practically installed Aredian on the council during the events of the previous week. Additionally, one Sir Leon, Captain of the Guard, was in attendance to give a mission report.

Sir Leon stood formally off to the side, musing idly as he waited patiently for his turn to deliver his report. He knew he could afford to let his mind wander a bit. Several council members were notoriously long-winded, after all.

_And it's not much of a report, to be honest._

Since the confrontation with Arthur and capture of Elyan at Glastonbury, there had been no news whatsoever to indicate Arthur's route or intent. That confrontation had been reported in detail at the last meeting by Aredian and the senior soldier who had gone on the mission. There had been no casualties since then, thankfully, but also no leads. When the knight-reinforced patrol had resumed the search, they had tracked the three fugitives to the shore of a nearby lake. Despite the abundant tracks and bloodstains in that clearing, thereafter the trail inexplicably went cold. And Elyan had been tight-lipped during the brief duration of his imprisonment.

_Elyan_, Leon thought. _We hadn't seen each other in years_.

He wished it had been under better circumstances. He had grown up alongside Elyan and Gwen while their mother was a servant in his father's house. They had enjoyed years of carefree friendship that childhood alone afforded in Camelot's society, but eventually their different roles and responsibilities had caused the three to drift apart.

_Sometimes tasks and duties enforce separate stations better than any prejudice or pride_, Leon reflected as he shifted his weight imperceptibly from one foot to the other. His right foot was threatening to fall asleep as the meeting dragged on.

Leon, duty-bound as he was to the king, was loathe to admit how conflicted he had felt about Elyan's arrest.

_Elyan was always a good lad; it's hard to believe he would have willingly committed treason, especially knowing his sister still worked in the castle._

Try as he might, he had not been able to puzzle that out. Nevertheless, he had debated with himself for the three days of Elyan's imprisonment: should he go to speak with him in the dungeon or not?

His sense of duty forbade him from consorting with traitors, but his personal loyalty to a childhood friend cautioned quietly as he lay awake late into the nights that perhaps he was not in possession of all of the facts of the situation. For this reason, he was very careful not to let slip the relationship between Elyan and Gwen.

_Sweet, gentle-hearted Guinevere_.

Whether Elyan was innocent or not, his sense of honor forbade him from subjecting Gwen to increased scrutiny without due cause. _Perhaps I was too easily swayed by past feelings?_ he wondered as the council members droned on about the legal ramifications of no longer having an heir-apparent. _This meeting could take all day_, he realized, suppressing a sigh. _I'll be lucky if I get to deliver my report before supper_.

His mind wandered back to its tangential train of thought. Had he been unwilling to mention Elyan's kinship with Gwen because of a true sense of honor or because of their shared history?

He had given her the courtesy of trusting silence that would normally be reserved for ladies of rank, but he knew he had never been able to separate Gwen from the noble ladies in his mind.

_I suppose a young heart is just impressionable_, he mused, shifting his weight slightly again and making sure for the third time that he hadn't unintentionally locked his knees. It wouldn't do any good to pass out part way through this never-ending council meeting.

His thoughts continued their meandering path through ethical conundrums and old memories. The images floated before his mind's eye like clouds on a lazy summer's day.

_Laughing with Gwen and Elyan over the, um, _procured_ pastries from his family's kitchens. Racing Elyan on foot across the meadows after the spring thaw, exhilarated to be finally out-of-doors again after a long, dreary winter. Shy flirtations with Gwen when he'd first discovered girls, then later their first kiss as childhood sweethearts._

Even as the legal debate between Geoffrey of Monmouth and one of the more quarrelsome noblemen dragged on, Leon felt his lip twitch up in the tiniest hint of a smile, imperceptible to those around him.

_It was not meant to last_, he knew.

They had long outgrown that first shy foray into romance, but nonetheless he had always held a great deal of fondness and respect for her, further complicating his battle of conscience over the past several days.

Ultimately, his inaction had made the decision for him. Elyan had escaped after only three days in Uther's dungeons, and likewise the knights were at a loss to find evidence of where he and his rescuers had gone.

Again, Leon had wrestled with a mixed response. His childhood friend had not died.

_That was good, right?_

His childhood sweetheart-though it had been many years since he had ceased to think of her that way-was safe in anonymity.

_That was definitely good._

But still he was uneasy.

_Perhaps Camelot is in greater danger now, whether from magical forces without or misguided decisions within._

He startled himself with those thoughts which would have bordered on treason in his sovereign's eyes. He felt his jaw tighten as he weighed the two opposing viewpoints.

_And I have no way to find out for sure_, he thought in frustration.

Just then, his reflection was interrupted and the meeting mercifully cut short by the arrival of one exhausted, harried-looking messenger.

"Sire, by your leave," he began, struggling to catch his breath.

_He sounds like he ran all the way up from the courtyard_, Leon thought, eager to hear the man's message.

At Uther's curt nod, the man launched into his report.

"I have just come from Mold, on the northern border, where numerous witnesses say they saw the fugitive Arthur and his companions three days ago. They say he was preparing to journey into the Perilous Lands."

Uther stood abruptly at that final sentence. His chair grated loudly across the floor. Silence fell as the entire room turned to stare at their king.

"Did you say '_the Perilous Lands_'?" hissed Uther.

"Yes, m'lord," the messenger said, his voice failing to hide his fear of the imposing monarch before him.

Uther did something Leon did not expect.

"Leave me!" he shouted. Everyone jumped slightly, but the words had not entirely sunk in.

"Are you deaf?" the incensed king roared. "Leave! Now!"

Every man in the room unceremoniously scrambled to his feet and beat a hasty retreat for the large double doors.

Sir Leon followed them, pausing when he heard the king call his name. He turned.

"Yes, sire?"

"Report back to me in one hour. And bring the latest status-of-forces reports with you."

"Yes, sire." Leon made an efficient exit, his conscience quietly lamenting that he was no closer to reaching a conclusion than he was when the meeting started.

_Perhaps meeting with the king will shed some light on all of this_, he hoped as he hurried down to the vaults where the sensitive military documents were stored.

**A/N: Tune in next time to find out what Uther's planning! ;) In the meantime, leave a review, maybe? :D**


	46. Chapter 46: Plan of Attack

**A/N: Thanks for the feedback on ch 44 and 45! Now to find out what happens during Leon's meeting with Uther :)**

**On with the fic!**

Chapter 46: Plan of Attack

One hour later, Sir Leon returned as instructed, carrying an armful of scrolls and maps with him. Uther was standing behind his throne, deep in thought, when the guards posted at the door allowed the Captain of the Guard to enter.

Leon set the documents down on the long council table and stood quietly, waiting to be acknowledged by his king. At last, Uther broke the long silence, turning toward him and saying cryptically, "These are dark days, Sir Leon," as he strode over to where the knight stood. "Now, show me the latest report on our troop strength here in the citadel."

"Yes, sire," Leon replied dutifully, unrolling the appropriate document. The two men leaned over it, perusing the page full of columns of facts and figures.

"As you can see, sire," Leon explained, "We currently have a complete military force of twelve thousand, both knights and soldiers."

"Good, good," Uther murmured, still skimming the document. He finished reading and looked at Leon directly.

"Tell me, Sir Leon, how large a force do you think the citadel can spare without inviting attack?" Uther added unnecessarily, "As you well know, we have not been on good terms with Odin's kingdom for some time, and the peace with Bayard is still untested."

_Both could be serious threats, if given a tempting window of opportunity,_ Leon thought as he carefully considered the king's question.

"I'd say two thousand comfortably. Certainly no more than three, not with things as they stand with both Odin and Mercia. Likewise, there have been some concerning scout reports that Cenred has perhaps increased his troop strength along our border."

Uther nodded gravely. "How many, both knights and foot soldiers, could we reasonably reassign from the less crucial garrisons, say along the border with Caerleon?

Uther unrolled a map of the kingdom of Camelot and indicated the region he had in mind. Leon pondered for a moment, his brow creased in thought. _It depends on how serious the need for the additional troops is...it seems unwise to reassign them without a significant need, even if we currently have peace with Caerleon_.

He voiced his concerns in the most polite way possible, "Sire, if I may ask, what is the mission of the force you wish to send out from Camelot? I may be better able to advise if I know the objective."

Uther's gaze hardened as he stared at the map before them.

"I want to conquer the Fortress of Níþdraca."

Leon did his best not to stare. He failed.

"Pardon, sire? The Fortress is thought to be uninhabited, in the midst of a wasteland."

Uther raised his eyes to meet Leon's bewildered gaze. "I am certain that is where Arthur has gone." He sighed and looked back at the map and muttered, "And it is most definitely not 'uninhabited.'"

"Sire?" Leon was beginning to feel like this question was all he had to contribute to this conversation. The objective his king was evidently driving at was eluding Leon completely so far.

Fortunately for Leon, Uther deigned to clarify.

"Balinor, the only Dragonlord to escape from Camelot, single-handedly defended the Fortress against an attacking force of twelve hundred soldiers and three hundred knights during the early years of the Purge. Casualties exceeded one-third of the initial force from demi-dragon attacks and would have been considerably higher had we not eventually withdrawn."

The king's scowl deepened. "I wouldn't be surprised to learn that the dragonlord was now calling himself 'Emrys' along with his other false titles."

He slammed a fist down on the map decisively.

"It is time to finish what I started. I want the army prepared to leave for the Perilous Lands within four days."

"Sire," Leon said, shifting uncomfortably.

_Disagreeing with the king isn't a pleasant task_.

"To ensure a clear victory," Leon said as inoffensively as possible, "Based on the figures you described, sire, I'd recommend a force no smaller than three thousand men and four hundred knights. To take such a sizeable force away from the defense of the kingdom will place us at risk."

"You speak wisely, Sir Leon, for as few years of experience as you have," Uther conceded briefly, before arguing his point further. "However, I believe this threat is sufficient to merit such action. This Balinor-_Emrys_-has plagued this land long enough. He must be stopped or he will continue to corrupt and lead astray, striking at the very heart of the kingdom."

The king looked at the map again, then at Sir Leon. "Arrange for a force of three thousand and four hundred as you have suggested, drawing them from wherever you see fit."

Uther paused for a moment, considering one more detail. "To minimize casualties, we will lay siege to the castle. This time, victory will not elude us. This time, I will lead the force myself."

Yet again, the Captain of the Guard stood blinking at his sovereign. "You, sire? Who will govern Camelot in your absence?"

_Such a siege could easily last for months, possibly all winter—_

Leon drew in a sharp breath.

_Winter. Siege. North of Camelot. Not good, not good at all._

Even though all his knightly instincts were screaming warnings in his head, he added as calmly as he could, "Are you sure a winter siege is wise, my lord, especially that far north?"

"Are you willing to risk the lives of more innocent citizens of Camelot, delaying justice against the sorcerers who plague them?" Uther countered.

Leon had no reply.

Uther continued, apparently mulling over Leon's earlier question.

"As I currently have no heir-apparent," he began, as Leon thought he detected a hint of regret in the tone, "I will have to designate a new legal heir as Regent. Do you believe that the remaining knights and soldiers will respect whomever I select?"

Leon was silent for a long moment. _Better a thoughtful answer than a hurried one._

At last he said, "Yes, I believe they will, my lord."

"Good," Uther said gruffly, rolling up one of the documents they'd been discussing. "I will make arrangements. I will lead the force out one week after I have named a Regent."

Leon, sensing he was being dismissed from the king's presence, hastily gathered up the scrolls and maps to return them to the vaults. As he walked through the lower levels of the castle with the documents tucked safely under his arm, he wondered, _Who could the king possibly have in mind?_

**A/N: The plot thickens! ;) What do you think?**

**Guest review replies:**

_**Nance**_**: Glad you liked the fluff and the theme of emotional-expression-challenged Pendragons ;) Yes, I agree Gwen was borderline OOC in her bluntness, but I admit I rationalized it to myself in three ways: 1) She and Morgana have been sharing more and scheming more in the past week as equals, sharing deeper secrets and greater "treason" than they have in the past, even more than in the case of helping Mordred, so that's bound to blur some social boundaries a bit, 2) She's being more blunt because she's trying so hard to help Morgana keep her mind off even more complicated emotions about Uther's revelation, and 3) She and Morgana are blurring the lines about class because they're subconsciously accepting that Gwen in is a relationship with Morgana's half-brother (so if it works out long-term, they will be social/class equals one day). Beyond that, I don't know, it made sense to me at the time I was writing it? ;) Yep, Uther's out to get Balinor with a vengeance! :/**


	47. Chapter 47: Abundance of Counselors

**A/N: Ladies and gents, I'd like to observe two exciting milestones: this fic just passed its 500****th**** review and 60,000 total page views. Seriously, when I started, I thought I'd write like 5,000 words total (ironic since this chapter breaks the 50,000-word mark for the fic) and I'd have been super-satisfied if even 20 people read the whole thing and some of them left constructive feedback. Needless to say, this has made my little-author-heart so very happy. Y'all, thanks for being so supportive and dedicated to this fic. You inspire me to keep turning out a new chapter each day :)**

**And now, a twice-the-average-length chapter! I'm planning to take tomorrow off so hopefully this should tide y'all over until I get ch 48 posted the day after. :)**

**On with the fic! :D**

Chapter 47: Abundance of Counselors

Shortly after supper, an unexpected knock sounded on Gaius' door.

_Morgana's early tonight_, he thought as he called "Enter" and resumed studying a medical treatise on the various treatments for hay fever.

The sounds of the door shutting firmly and of booted feet purposefully striding into the room drew Gaius' attention away from his reading. _Those aren't Morgana's footsteps._

He looked up abruptly, directly into the eyes of his king.

"Sire!" Gaius exclaimed, rising quickly. "I sorry, I was expecting Morgana for her daily headache treatment."

He realized as he spoke that Uther's features were harried and drawn, as though he could use a headache tonic himself.

"What can I do for you, my lord?" Gaius asked kindly, inviting the king to confide.

Uther sat down on the bench across from Gaius and gestured for the physician to resume his seat as well.

"About what I said, the other night," the king began, rubbing a weary hand across his eyes. "I've been thinking."

Gaius raised a solitary, curious eyebrow, the rest of his well-schooled features remaining perfectly blank as he waited for Uther to elaborate.

"As you well know from the council meeting this morning, there are legal complications caused by…" The king's voice caught slightly. He cleared his throat and continued, "By recent events."

Gaius nodded.

Uther continued, "As you now know, though, I am not entirely without an heir."

"You've decided to tell Lady Morgana?"

The king nodded slowly and leaned back, directing his attention uncomfortably away from Gaius to the jumble of medicinal tools on the table beside his elbow.

"But you know Morgana-I don't know that she'll take the news well."

_That's an understatement_, Gaius thought, nodding in cautious agreement.

"But that's not the whole situation," Uther said after a pause, standing and beginning to pace.

Gaius simply watched him, still displaying no unvetted emotions.

"The threat of Emrys looms large over my kingdom and I must act swiftly. If he attacks Camelot, he will have the advantage due to Arthur's extensive knowledge. For this reason, I am preparing to lead a siege force to the Fortress of Níþdraca."

Gaius' eyes widened slightly, but the king didn't notice.

"I cannot leave Camelot without a leader at court, of course. So I want to appoint Morgana as Princess Regent in my absence."

"Are you certain that's wise, sire? Morgana has not been prepared for the role."

Uther sighed.

"Would you rather I appoint someone else? What if I fall in battle? You know how many men we lost last time to the demi-dragons!" Uther set his jaw, unswayed in his decision. "If I die, I want Morgana to have the throne-it is more rightfully hers than anyone else I could appoint."

Realizing Uther would not listen to his counsel on this point, Gaius stood and inclined his head in the slightest bow.

"And what is it that you want me to do in all of this, Sire? I take it you did not personally come all the way to my chambers just for this." Gaius handed the king a small vial from his medicine bag as he spoke. "It's a soothing tonic, sire," he added.

"Thank you," Uther said gratefully, accepting the vial, uncorking it, and downing the contents in a single swallow. Grimacing at the taste, he handed the now-empty vial back to the physician. "I want you to look out for her, Gaius. She is inexperienced, as you say, and I trust you to support her. With your help, I trust she can grow into the Princess Camelot needs."

The king turned away and Gaius allowed himself a small, pleased smile. Theirs was a peculiar friendship but a friendship nonetheless.

The smile froze at Uther's next words: "I also want you to help me tell her."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

When Morgana entered Gaius' chambers a short while later for their nightly magic lesson, she immediately knew something was wrong. Uther and Gaius sat on opposite benches, clearly awaiting her arrival.

"Am I interrupting something, my lord?" she queried, shifting her weight nervously, the door still wide open behind her.

_He can't have found out about the magic...he's too calm and Gaius is still sitting here. So what is going on?_

"No, Morgana, not at all," Uther began, beckoning her further into the room.

She closed the door and schooled her expression into a perfect mask of a demure, deferential ward.

"Please, sit," Uther continued, gesturing to the space on the bench next to Gaius.

Morgana did as she was instructed, casting a glance at Gaius but learning nothing from his equally schooled expression. She looked expectantly at Uther.

"Morgana, we-I-want to talk to you about something."

_Oh_, she thought. _No! Not that, not now!_

She swallowed around the lump in her throat as Uther continued, "There are actually two things we need to talk about. First, the council has pointed out that I need a new legal heir. As I am about to leave on a military campaign that could last for some time-"

Morgana swung to look at Gaius, confusion in her expression. He shushed her with a look that said, _Let him finish_.

The king continued, "-It has become necessary to speak with you about this more hastily than I would have liked."

Morgana pulled herself together. _Don't let him know that you already know!_

"About what, my lord?" she asked, all sweetness and confused smiles.

"You know that I don't have a way with words about matters that are close to my heart," the king admitted slowly.

_There they are, those pesky, complicated Pendragon _feelings_ again_, Morgana thought ruefully.

Uther paused, took a deep breath, and announced, "I want you to be my heir and Princess Regent in my absence."

Morgana's jaw dropped. _This is all happening too fast._

"But my lord," she said, flustered, "Surely there are plenty of noblemen and knights who would be more suited to follow in your footsteps!"

"But none of them are my _daughter_."

Morgana forced a light-hearted giggle that she desperately hoped sounded genuine. "And I think of you like a father, my lord, but wishing doesn't make it so."

"I'm not wishing," Uther said, his tone completely serious. "You _are_ my daughter."

_You're supposed to be surprised_, Morgana coached herself through her responses_, Just don't throw up this time…_

She settled on a simple "My lord?" with the best stunned expression she could muster. _Sadly, doesn't take a lot of imagination_.

"Your mother and I…" Uther trailed off awkwardly. "Well, Gorlois believed you were his child and loved you dearly-as do I."

Morgana nodded numbly. _So Daddy never knew_. Somehow it was a consolation, knowing the man she still loved as a father had been spared knowledge of the betrayal and had been free to truly love her as his own.

She realized that both Gaius and Uther were watching her. _Oh, right, I'm probably supposed to reply to that_. "I...I love you, too, _Father_."

Uther smiled, the first earnest smile she'd seen on his face since before Arthur had gone. Instead of making her happy, that single smile punctured the dam she'd penned her emotions behind. They started leaking out, gaining momentum until they threatened to overwhelm her. She rose abruptly and turned to the water pitcher on the sideboard. _Déjà vu_, she thought as she busied her hands slowly pouring herself a glass. _Pull it together, Morgana_. Somehow having Gaius' familiar presence in the room helped keep her from flying off the handle, even though he hadn't said a word since Uther's declaration.

Despite her efforts to control her response, a single question slipped past her walls, tumbling from her lips before she could think to stop it.

"Why did you never tell me?" she asked quietly.

Uther looked confused. "There wasn't any need. I already had an heir-" He stopped himself short.

Morgana turned to face him, the memories of heartache moving to the foreground in her mind.

"There was every need," she said simply. "It's not about the title."

Uther opened his mouth to reply but she continued, "You let me believe my family was dead. That I was an orphan. Alone in the world." She narrowed her eyes. "And all the while, you knew."

The king stood and stepped toward her, his hands open. "But you weren't alone. You had me."

"I had your charity, you mean," Morgana took a step back, bumping into the sideboard.

"I raised you alongside Arthur, gave you everything you wanted-"

"Except the most important thing," Morgana said, her voice taking on a sharp edge she'd so far managed to keep at bay. "The truth."

"But what good would it have done-telling you-if it's 'not about the title'?" Uther asked, uncomprehending.

"I could have finally belonged!" Morgana cried, losing her battle for self-restraint.

She turned away from him again, folding her arms protectively around herself. "I had a right to know." The sentence brimmed with heartache and accusation.

After a long silence, she flinched when she heard Uther take another step toward her. The bench creaked as Gaius stood and stepped smoothly between her and the king.

"Sire," he said gently, "Perhaps you could give her a moment?"

"All right," Uther said gruffly. "I'll be in my chambers." He turned and exited the room, closing the door behind him.

Morgana twitched as Gaius laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Oh, Gaius," she said brokenly and buried her face in his shoulder.

"What do you think of his proposal?" Gaius asked her in a soft voice after a few moments.

"I don't know," she sniffed quietly, not wanting to be overheard in case Uther was still in the hall.

She stepped back and wiped away the traces of her tears. "He expects me to accept, I can tell. But I don't want to. I don't want to be associated with him like that."

"May I offer you some advice, my dear?" Gaius asked.

"Yes, please," Morgana admitted.

Gaius cautiously lowered his voice to a whisper. "If you accept, you may be a better position to help Arthur than if Uther appoints someone who isn't sympathetic to the prince's cause. It would be a fine line,' he mused, "Between flouting the current laws and enforcing unjust ones, but I believe you will rise to the challenge."

"Really?" Morgana sniffed, looking up at him earnestly.

"Really," Gaius confirmed with a smile. "And anyway, you won't have to do it alone. You have me and Gwen, not to mention Emrys and Kilgarrah."

Morgana snorted in mock indignation. "Kilgarrah probably anticipated all of this-cryptic Seeing lizard that he is. He'd better have _really_ good advice to make up for that."

They both laughed and Gaius unexpectedly pulled her into a hug.

"Morgana, my dear, already you are proving yourself ready for this role."

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused.

"You already have the humility to seek counsel. I foresee-as I'm sure Kilgarrah has-that you will be an excellent Princess Regent. Perhaps this is part of your destiny that Kilgarrah spoke of."

Morgana glowed at the compliment.

Gaius continued with a knowing smile, "I'd be happy to tell Uther that you will give him your answer in the morning if you're in a hurry to go see a certain 'cryptic lizard' now."

With a grateful nod, Morgana dashed from the room.

**A/N: So what'd you think? Virtual cupcakes (in honor of my birthday on Friday) for anyone who correctly guesses what the chapter title is a quote from/reference to! ;)**

**Guest review replies:**

_**Nance**_**: That is true—it's something Morgana will have to deal with over the next phase of the fic! I'm glad you agree Uther's assumption makes sense ;) Hmm, not sure about the total number of wyverns (I guess I'll have to think about that now), but there's definitely a bunch of them out there, scattered across Albion ;) I'll see what I can come up with for little Ambrosius…hmm, maybe a protective spell? ;) **

_**Guest**_**: My pleasure! I'm pleased you were so excited :) No trolls in the plans currently…wasn't much of a fan of those episodes myself, despite Sarah Parish's impeccable acting. Hmm, you'll just have to wait and see…even Leon doesn't know what he's going to decide about this situation Camelot is embroiled in, so you don't get to find out before he does, haha! ;) Thanks, seriously, for reviewing consistently. :)**


	48. Chapter 48: Withholding

**A/N: After a lovely long weekend off from writing to spend my birthday with family and friends, I'm finally back! Thanks for your patience! And thanks for all the reviews! Seriously, I received like 60+ reviews on my birthday (thanks in part to one guest who started from the beginning and reviewed nearly every chapter)! Contributed to an already lovely day ;)**

**I decided to clarify the chapter 47 title-reference, "Abundance of Counselors," since only one reviewer correctly guessed the source. (Virtual cupcakes to **_**H. **_**!) No, it wasn't supposed to be "Abundance of Katherines" by John Green. It's actually from the Bible (Proverbs 24:6): "**_**For by**____**wise guidance you can wage your war,**____**and in**____**abundance of counselors there is victory**_**." I wanted chapter 47 to highlight in title and content the difference between how Uther and Morgana are currently handling things: Uther rejects counsel from people he should trust (like Gaius and Sir Leon), which doesn't bode well for his upcoming campaign, while Morgana will have at least a decent shot at successfully navigating the dangerous times ahead because she is humble enough to know she needs advice and is willing to ask for it.**

**On with the fic!**

Chapter 48: Withholding

The day before, following the narrow escape when Arthur interrupted Ambrosius' arrival and healing, Merlin and Balinor had remained on the battlements and discussed the message from Morgana while Ambrosius napped. Neither of them was enthusiastic about the plan she'd written of-they, like Gaius, saw too many ways for it to go awry. They both hoped, as it had been over two days since Ambrosius had departed Camelot, that one way or another Elyan was already free and heading north to join them.

_Which leaves us with a new problem_, Merlin realized.

"How am I going to explain it to Arthur when Elyan shows up here in a few days?" he groaned, pacing back and forth in front of his father.

"Tell him the truth-"

"What?" Merlin interrupted with a yelp, stopping dead in his tracks.

"-mostly," Balinor finished with a patient smile.

Merlin calmed slightly but resumed pacing. Balinor continued.

"The facts are fine, with one minor alteration. If you're not ready to tell him that you're Emrys, then let him think that _I_ am."

_Oh_, Merlin thought, _That just might work_.

Balinor continued, "And anyway, it's the conclusion Uther will jump to, if he figures out where Arthur has gone."

"How do you know?"

"Because Uther is blinded by his grief and hatred. He sees only what he wants to see: a magical conspiracy, with me at its heart."

The two men, father and son, stood in silence for a moment.

"Do you think it's wise," Merlin said at last, "To add another lie?"

Balinor looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

Merlin sighed. "I want to tell him, really, I do. I just...well, I'm afraid he's not ready."

Balinor nodded sagely.

"Perhaps neither are you. Once you do, there's no going back."

The older man leaned on the wall and stroked Ambrosius' soft feathers gently. "I would reassure you that I could protect you here if he reacted with his sword...but that's not what you fear, is it, my son?"

Merlin shook his head. Balinor chuckled.

"Frankly, _Emrys_," he said the name with a smile, "We both know you could protect yourself. But there are no such defenses for the soul, are there?"

Merlin blinked hard and looked away, out toward the horizon.

"As I thought," his father said simply, walking up behind him and laying a strong hand on each of his son's shoulders. "Until you are ready, then, I will gladly play the face to your deeds."

Merlin turned to face him and nodded once in gratitude.

Balinor clapped him on the shoulder.

"Now, what-say we get some breakfast? There'll be plenty of time for another 'falconry' lesson later."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

After sleeping all day, Elyan, Lancelot, and Percival broke camp at dusk and set out northward again. They covered ground quickly, passing through the open stretch of the northern plains. They saw a darkened village ahead of them just before dawn, marking the border of the Perilous Lands.

"Mold," Percival stated with a nod, making no move to slow down and approach the town.

"We'd best go around," Lancelot agreed, picking up the pace slightly.

"Much as I'd like more supplies, you boys are right," Elyan added, kicking his mount to keep up.

They rode until the sun came up, crossing an abandoned-but-surprisingly-well-maintained bridge in the forest between the northern plains and the Perilous Lands. At Percival's warning, they stopped only to nap and eat before continuing onward across the desolate landscape.

"We should head towards Níþdraca," Percival pointed northwest.

"How do you know all this, my friend?" Lancelot asked. The question had been nagging at the back of his mind ever since they passed Mold. Percival had said little but seemed to know generally where they were going. The man was reticent about most things, but he was virtually mute about his past.

"My family was from a town in the northern plains. My father died in the Purge."

"He was a sorcerer?" Lancelot asked in surprise. _How little I know my friend!_ he chided himself.

"Hmm," Percival said, "Not exactly. He was a Seer."

"What happened?" Elyan asked.

"Uther tried to conscript the men in our village on his march to attack Níþdraca, but my father refused. The knights ran him through for his gift. My mother was forced to flee south with me and my little sisters."

"I'm so sorry," Lancelot said quietly.

"They all died of fever five winters ago," Percival continued, "So I came to Camelot to await the promise of the Once and Future King."

"So you really believe the prophecy?" Elyan asked.

Percival nodded. "My father claimed to have Seen it."

Afraid the window of opportunity would close if he didn't take the chance, Lancelot asked quickly, "And are you a Seer, too?"

Percival looked deeply sad. "I do not have my father's gift."

Then the reticent mask settled firmly over Percival's face once more. As they rode on in silence, Lancelot knew he and Elyan would learn no more of their companion's secrets that day.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Ah, young witch, I was wondering when you would be coming to see me," boomed Kilgarrah cheerfully that evening as Morgana stepped out onto the ledge, a flickering torch clasp tightly in her hand. It was her first meeting with Kilgarrah alone. As eager as she had been when she'd rushed out of Gaius' chambers a few minutes ago, she suddenly found herself nervous. She had grown used to the idea of the Great Dragon as an ally and knew Gaius had spoken with him often in the past week, but standing here alone was different. The terrifying images from her childhood nightmares came flooding back as she stared up at the shadowy form of the immense dragon.

Morgana swallowed her fear and cut straight to her point.

"You knew, didn't you." It wasn't an accusation or a question, just a statement from one Seer to another.

"Depends on what you are speaking of. I See many things," the dragon smiled toothily and settled down comfortably on his rocky outcropping.

"You knew Uther was my father."

"Yes."

"And you didn't think to warn me?" A hint of accusation slipped in.

"It was not my secret to tell."

_Insufferable lizard_, Morgana thought.

"Did you also know he would name me heir and Princess Regent?"

"Yes."

"Again: _Why?_" Morgana asked, not hiding her exasperation this time.

"Because it was one of the testing points of your destiny," Kilgarrah chuckled. "You can relax, young witch. You passed."

"So there are more 'testing points'?" Morgana asked, shifting her weight from one foot to the other nervously.

"Yes, there are."

"But you can't tell me about them?"

"No, I cannot."

_Cannot or will not_, Morgana thought, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. She settled for a different tactic.

"Does Emrys know of these testing points as well?"

"No, he does not."

"How does that work? I thought you didn't keep secrets from him-I thought you were kin."

"We are kin, as you say, but he has to travel the path of his destiny, just as you do. Foreknowledge is a treacherous thing, young Seer. The sooner you and Emrys learn that, the easier your paths will be."

Morgana radiated frustration. "Whose side are you really on? Allies shouldn't keep secrets like that."

"Then I'm afraid your definition of 'ally' is too narrow."

Kilgarrah held up a claw to prevent the retort she was formulating. He continued, "I am on the side of Albion and the glorious age of Emrys and the Once and Future King. It remains to be seen, however," he added, "which side _you_ are on."

_What? _Morgana thought. "How dare you accuse me of being on Uther's side!"

"Those are not the only sides in the great struggle for Albion, young witch," Kilgarrah stated very slowly, as though explaining something painfully simple to an ill-tempered child.

"What do you mean?" Morgana asked. _I thought this problem was black-and-white._

"The old prophecies claimed that you were the darkness to Emrys' light, the hatred to his love. While this old destiny has been broken and reforged, its new form is still uncertain. But at the moment, you and Emrys still embody the latter traits."

Kilgarrah sighed and shifted to a standing position. "In general, he shows too much forbearance to those who oppose him, while you show too little."

He unfurled his wings as Morgana stood in speechless confusion.

"Means matter, young witch," Kilgarrah said simply. "You would be wise to heed that counsel."

With that, he flew up into the shadows, leaving Morgana alone in the flickering pool of torchlight.

**A/N: I hope that was worth the wait! Let me know what you thought and what you want to see happen in upcoming chapters ;) I have a plan but I try to accommodate your preferences when possible :)**

**Guest review replies:**

_**Nance:**_** I'm so glad you enjoyed ch 47! You're right about Uther—it never occurs to him that Morgana would disagree. Yep, Leon is basically immortal ;) I plan to keep that bit of canon/assumption in this fic ;) Thanks, I did-lots of Italian food ;)**

_**Ren**_**: Thanks for reviewing! No, it wasn't (see A/N at the top), but thanks for giving it a shot! Please keep reading and reviewing :) I really appreciate it!**

_**Guest #1**_**: Oh. My. Goodness! You totally made my day with your bazillion reviews! Thanks for taking the time to read the whole thing and leave so many comments! I hope you enjoyed the additional bit of pompous!dragon in this chapter ;)**

_**Guest #2**_**: Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! I'm so pleased you like this fic so much! :D**


	49. Chapter 49: Breakfast and Banter

**A/N: Thanks for the feedback! Guest reviews at the end of this post as usual :)**

**For your Friday entertainment, I present a hearty serving of father-son bonding, with a crackish side of apple!Gwaine and feisty!Ambrosius ;)**

**On with the fic!**

Chapter 49: Breakfast and Banter

Merlin nodded at Balinor's suggestion of breakfast. Just then his stomach growled, setting both men chuckling. Merlin called Ambrosius, who happily perched on his shoulder with a chirp of greeting, and followed Balinor back down the stairs to sort out some breakfast from the cellar.

"Where did the bread come from?" Merlin asked, impressed, as he noticed that the cellar was more fully stocked than it had been the day before.

"Baked it last night, after you three went to bed," Balinor said, adding, "Wyverns dropped off some more meat last night, too."

"We'll eat like kings," Merlin said with a grin. _And I would know_, he thought to himself as he made a point to grab extra portions so that Arthur could eat as soon as he woke up. _He's a bear until he's had his breakfast_.

Each carrying a basket, the men made their way back upstairs to the old throne room. Merlin looked around as he set the basket of fruit and bread on the long table, noticing in particular how vivid the carvings and tapestries of dragons looked. _It's so much cleaner and more colorful in here than yesterday. Father must be pleased to have guests._ He smiled and began humming off-key as he finished laying out plates and mugs from the sideboard while Balinor placed a hunk of what appeared to be fresh ham on a spit and lit the fire with a word. Ambrosius hopped off Merlin's shoulder and settled contentedly on top of the high-back chair at the head of the table nearest the fire.

The older man rose from tending the fire and moved to sit at the head of the table, his back to the fireplace. Ambrosius chirped in mild offense at losing his warm perch and settled on the chair to Balinor's left instead. Merlin sat at his father's right hand and passed him a plate of bread.

Balinor accepted the plate and continued speaking, as though thinking out loud, "This is fitting, my son. As it was in the days of the Fortress Kings of old, when the King sat at this table with his heir and taught him the secret wisdom of the dragons, so now, you and I sit here: King and Heir."

He passed the plate of bread back to Merlin. "We are the last of the Dragonlords. We alone carry that ancient gift."

Merlin finally gave voice to the nagging fear that had been slowly growing since first learning his father was a Dragonlord. "But how would I know if I possess this gift? The wyverns don't seem to respect me...and Kilgarrah is usually the one bossing me around."

Balinor chuckled. "Ah, that's Kilgarrah for you. He'd talk back to even the sternest of Dragonlords."

Merlin chuckled too, his mood lightening. "So does that mean I do have the gift?"

"No, you do not-"

Merlin's face fell.

"-Not yet, at least," Balinor added quickly. "On the day I pass on to Avalon, then you shall come into your ancient inheritance. Only then will you truly know if you have the gift."

Balinor smiled and poured water for them both from a pitcher on the table. "But I trust that you will."

"Merlin, a Dragonlord? That's fantastic, mate!" A voice announced from the doorway.

Both men turned quickly to see Gwaine leaning casually against the door frame. He straightened and strode into the room.

"Apples!" he crowed with delight, grabbing a shiny red one and biting into it as he took the seat on Balinor's left. Ambrosius squawked and flapped over to perch on Merlin's chair in huff, having lost his perch for a second time in as many minutes.

Merlin looked at Gwaine nervously.

"How much of that conversation did you hear?"

"Hmm?" Gwaine said through a mouthful of apple, looking entirely nonplussed. He swallowed and said, "Oh, the whole bit about you being his son and being a Dragonlord someday. And a king, too, I guess."

Gwaine shrugged while Merlin looked slightly panicked. "It explains where you got the magic from, _your highness_."

"Gwaine!" Merlin hissed, throwing a desperate glance toward the door. "You can't tell Arthur any of this!"

"'Course not. I know that," Gwaine sighed as though he thought Merlin was seriously overreacting. "I haven't told him about the magic, yet, have I?"

"...Fair enough," Merlin conceded. "But what if Arthur walks in and hears? He could at any second!"

Gwaine took another enormous bite of his apple. "Nmpht gmphng tphoo."

"Pardon?" Balinor asked, quirking a half smile.

Gwaine swallowed and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "I said, he's not going to."

Balinor simply raised an eyebrow.

"I might have jammed his chamber door from the outside once he went back to sleep." He shrugged impishly and leaned back lazily in his chair. "It should take him a while to get it open from the inside...and anyway we'd probably hear the ruckus first."

Merlin, relieved, burst out laughing. The other two joined in as Merlin passed the bread to Gwaine. It was a simple gesture, but Merlin could tell Gwaine understood the significance: he was officially part of their inner circle now.

"Sir Strength," Balinor said with a smile as he watched the wordless message pass between the two young men, "It seems there is more to you than meets the eye."

"Me? Naw!" Gwaine guffawed and took another bite of his apple as Merlin and Balinor laughed again.

They settled comfortably into their meal. Several minutes later, Balinor served the roasted ham and Merlin magically floated a second apple from the basket to Gwaine's plate.

"Cheers, mate," the secret noble said, then posed a question: "So what's the news from Camelot?"

Merlin looked at Balinor. _How much do I tell him?_ he projected.

_Only as much as you want. Just project anything you need me to say_, came his father's reply.

"Well," Merlin said, gesturing to the hawk on the back of his chair, "You've met Ambrosius already. He brought word that Elyan was planning to escape and head north to join us here."

"Elyan," Gwaine replied thoughtfully, "That's the chap you stayed with at Glastonbury, right? The one who got captured?"

"Yes," Merlin said sadly. "Um, remember how I told you about Gwen?"

"Yep, Princess' lady friend," Gwaine said with a chuckle between bites.

"Well, Elyan's her brother."

"Oh, this will be fun," Gwaine grinned mischievously. "Brother and suitor, stuck in a tower together. That should be very interesting." He looked off into the distance for a moment, then back to Merlin, who could see the wheels turning in his friend's mind. "I'd love to make things _even more_ interesting, if you know what I mean."

"Pranks?" Balinor asked, a twinkle in his eye.

"Call it what you will," Gwaine replied casually.

"Hmm," Merlin said, "Maybe we can think of something…"

Gwaine leaned forward and propped his elbows on the table. "So when will he get here?"

"I don't know, maybe several days. We don't even know if he's managed to escape yet."

"But you think he will?"

Merlin tipped his head to the side, a glint of amusement in his blue eyes. "Let's just say I won't be surprised. Camelot's dungeons have a rather abysmal record."

Gwaine nodded and took another bite of his apple. "Hmm, Feathers there could be right useful-maybe make Elyan think Princess is sending love letters to his sister?"

Merlin mulled over the idea, but "Feathers" was not impressed. In a flash, he dove off the back of Merlin's chair and snatched the half-eaten apple from Gwaine's hand just as he was about to take a bite. His teeth closed on thin air.

"Hey!" he shouted indignantly, "You bring that back!"

He leapt to his feet and chased after the hawk, who was flying in lazy circles just ahead of the rogue in hot pursuit.

"Drop it! Now, Feathers, or so help me, I'll turn you into quills!" Gwaine cried as the bird dove and rolled, staying tauntingly just out of reach.

Merlin grinned and looked at Balinor. _You know, I think they're both enjoying this_, he projected.

_You certainly have a knack for picking unusual friends_, Balinor replied, matching Merlin's grin. _While they're...occupied, why don't you tell me more of your actions as Emrys? I'll need to know as much as I can if I'm to be a convincing stand-in._

Merlin nodded slightly. _Ambrosius will need another nap before he heads out again after this_, he projected with a smile. _At least he's giving us time to talk_.

Merlin mentally relayed his story from the beginning as they watched the two pranksters, man and bird, race repeatedly around the throne room for the next quarter of an hour. Merlin was nearly halfway through his tale when all three men and Ambrosius stopped suddenly and looked up as the sound of a series of thuds and crashes announced that Arthur was awake.

"Time to let the prat out and feed him before he breaks something," Merlin groaned in mock resignation as he headed for the door.

A chorus of laughter and chirping followed him up the stairs.

**A/N: So what'd you think? Any suggestions for Merlin/Ambrosius/Gwaine pranks once the other knights-to-be arrive? ;)**

**Guest review replies:**

_**Nance**_**: Hmm, interesting idea to cover the lie with the "inheritance" claim. :) I'm glad you liked the name…I nicked it from a town in northern Wales, which apparently has a library that's home to the largest collection of Arthurian texts in the world (fun fact learned from Colin Morgan and Bradley James' short documentary-thingy about hunting for info on the real Arthur and Merlin). Mold is just southwest of Liverpool and Chester, just across the border into Wales. I might have also picked that town because the name is sort of hilarious and because I was making the village in the fic just south of border of the Perilous Lands. In my head, I'm equating Liverpool and the surrounding regions with the Perilous ****Lands (**_**Liverpudlians **_**reading**** this, I know Liverpool's reputation isn't entirely deserved, so please don't hate me…I just thought it'd be funny). Ahem. Anyway, before I lose readership, I'm moving on…I'm glad you like Percival's new backstory! I'm pleased you approve of the way Kilgarrah's changed his semantics and the way the knights-to-be are written. Today's Ambrosius-at-breakfast scene is entirely based on your idea, so thanks! I'm also working on ways to incorporate more Gwen into the events in Camelot ;)**

_**Guest:**_** Yes…yes, he is. ;) It's what he's best at, after all. ;) Thanks for reviewing!**

_**Bookybookworm**_**: Thanks for continuing to leave reviews! I'll miss our PM chats but I respect your decision :) You'll have to wait and see how the destiny stuff unfolds! :) Glad you're excited ;)**


	50. Chapter 50: Revelations

**A/N: Thanks for the enthusiastic response to ch 49! I'm so pleased y'all had as much fun reading it as I had writing it! And thank you to everyone who submitted prank suggestions ;) **

**Here's ch 50 ;) I'll warn you now, it has a bit of a cliffie at the end…but I promise I'll post ch 51 ASAP to make up for it!**

**On with the fic!**

Chapter 50: Revelations

_Merlin was right-Arthur is a complete prat before he's had his breakfast_, Gwaine thought with a sigh as he looked mournfully at the now-empty bowl of apples. During his pursuit of Feathers to retrieve his stolen apple, Merlin and Balinor had apparently each eaten an apple, leaving just one by the time Arthur clomped down the stairs and demanded to know why _someone_ (apparently Merlin, from the look Arthur gave him) hadn't woken him for breakfast. Without waiting for an answer to his question, Princess had flopped down in the place where Merlin had been sitting and helped himself not just to the bread and meat, but to the very last apple as well.

"So…" Arthur began, swallowing the last of his breakfast and finally planting both feet squarely in the realm of the consciousness, "_Falconry_?"

The prince looked at each of the three men in turn. This time, it was painfully clear he wanted his question answered.

Merlin, who had taken Gwaine's seat to Balinor's left, leaving Gwaine to sit beside Arthur, cleared his throat. Gwaine noticed the slight widening of his friend's eyes. _He's actually afraid_, Gwaine thought.

"Um, well, like Balinor said before, it's apparently a lot like-"

"Not that, _Mer_lin," Arthur crossed his arms in front of this chest. "_Why_ so early? And what is that falcon doing here? We didn't see another living thing besides the wyverns for leagues."

Ambrosius seemed to understand he was being criticized, because he stopped nibbling on his hard-won apple core and perched defensively behind Merlin on his chair. Gwaine saw Merlin's eyebrows twitch almost imperceptibly and Ambrosius grudgingly moved to the back of Balinor's chair instead.

_Merlin can direct Feathers without a verbal spell?_ Gwaine thought, surprised. _Hmm, didn't know that could be done._

He mentally filed that thought away for later consideration as he watched Merlin glance at Balinor. Balinor deftly stepped in to his rescue.

"It is excellent timing that you ask that question, your highness. It so happens that I needed to speak with you about a matter relating to the falcon."

"Go on," Arthur said, not uncrossing his arms.

"You are right that little can live in the Perilous Lands due to the wyverns. However, Ambrosius-" Balinor gestured to the bird, "Is my messenger."

"To whom?"

"Camelot," Balinor let the word hang intentionally in the air between them.

"What dealings do you have in Camelot?" Arthur asked, steel in his voice. The final word _sorcerer_ was left unsaid but clearly implied. Gwaine shifted uncomfortably and wished again that he had an apple to munch on-it would make the tension less awkward.

"My dealings concern you, Arthur," Balinor said at last, folding his hands and resting them on the table as he leaned forward. "You are the Once and Future King. I am bound to you by the Prophecy."

Arthur stared at him.

"You..._you_ are _Emrys_?"

Balinor simply inclined his head in a slight nod. Gwaine, surprised but not entirely shocked by this revelation, glanced at each of the three men in turn. He noticed briefly that Merlin didn't seem surprised.

Arthur suddenly shoved his chair back with a grating creak and stood, both hands braced on the table.

"_You_-" he began, his tone accusatory.

Gwaine glanced around the table. Merlin's eyes widened slightly more. Balinor simply raised one eyebrow but tensed his shoulders defensively, as though bracing for the prince's impending outburst. Princess was clearly trying to keep himself under control.

Abruptly, he turned away from the table and strode angrily to the fireplace. He stood staring into dying embers, clenching and unclenching his fists. No one moved. At last he spoke, turning slowly toward Balinor as he did.

"I lost _everything_ because of _you_."

Arthur ran a hand through his hair.

"My home, my title, my family, _Gwen_-all of it, because of _you_. Now you will answer me: _Why_?"

Gwaine thought something-a look, maybe-passed between Merlin and Balinor.

Balinor replied carefully, "No, you lost everything because of Aredian, not me."

"Explain."

"I have been protecting you for nearly two years already. You would be dead many times over if not for me."

Arthur laughed bitterly. "I doubt that."

"The blue orb of light in the caves of Balor? The defeat of Cornelius Sigan? Your miraculous recovery from the bite of the Questing Beast?"

Gwaine interrupted suddenly, "You were bitten by the Questing Beast?"

"Yes," Arthur admitted grudgingly, crossing his arms and looking away.

"You should be dead!" Gwaine declared incredulously. He looked at Balinor in awe. "And you saved his life?"

Balinor simply nodded.

"But that would require mastery of the power over life and death," Gwaine muttered.

"Yes, it did," Balinor replied quietly-_sadly, even_, Gwaine thought.

Arthur looked back at Balinor.

"What does that mean?"

"I killed the sorceress Nimueh-I took her life in exchange for yours," Balinor explained, "Only the most powerful can hope to master that ability. If you need proof that I am Emrys, look no further."

Arthur appeared to be wrestling with himself. His expression waffled between furious, grateful, and awe-struck. Gwaine thought there might even be a dash of terrified mixed in.

At last, without a word, Arthur strode out of the room and pounded down the stairs. With a quick glance at Balinor, Merlin leapt up and raced after the prince.

**A/N: What'd you think? :) Btw, I'm still taking suggestions for pranks by or to any member of the Níþdraca contingent (and the knights-to-be, when they finally arrive)…or even by the Níþdraca contingent against the siege army that's coming…**

**Guest review replies:**

_**Nance**_**: Thanks for reviewing! I'm so glad you enjoyed ch 49! I really enjoyed your suggestions, especially the one about the wards on the larder ;) I'll see what I can do! :)**

_**Bookybookworm**_**: Glad you liked the chapter! I like your suggestion about Morgana…I'd been toying with having struggle with hiding her magic later on, but I'll see if I can't find a (possibly humorous) way to work that in sooner ;)**


	51. Chapter 51: Confrontation

**A/N: More milestones! Exactly 2 months since publishing ch 1, this fic has passed 50 chapters and 600 reviews :) Thanks, everyone! :D**

**On with the fic!**

Chapter 51: Confrontation

Merlin found Arthur standing in the courtyard, facing away from the arched doorway and staring up at the pack of wyverns lazily circling high overhead. The sun was nearly overhead now, casting stark wyvern-shadows across the courtyard with each pass of the great winged beasts.

"Arthur?" Merlin asked tentatively as he slowly approached.

Arthur hummed his acknowledgement but continued to stare upwards.

"I just thought, maybe...you'd want someone to talk to?" Merlin kept his eyes on Arthur's back and picked at his cuticles nervously.

"Do you feel trapped here?" Arthur asked slowly, still watching the wyverns circle.

"Trapped?" Merlin repeated, confused.

"Hunted by my father, trapped here by wyverns with a sorcerer," Arthur elaborated.

His shoulders sagged slightly.

"And not just any sorcerer, but the very one Father thinks I'm in league with. Now I really can never go home."

"Balinor's a good man," Merlin said softly but firmly.

"Oh, and you would know, would you?" Arthur spun to face him. "Since you've spent so much time with him-more time with him than with me since we arrived, actually."

Arthur's eyes were blazing as he released all the anger that had apparently been building since Balinor's confession. "You're just an idiot manservant, _Mer_lin."

Merlin opened his mouth to diffuse the tension with a snarky remark, but Arthur plunged ahead.

"I understand that you led a sheltered life in Ealdor and all this magic must be really enticing," Arthur continued in his most prattish tone, "I was prepared to let it slide, but now I have to know. Had he already told you and Gwaine? Am I the last to know?"

Merlin looked away but said nothing. Arthur narrowed his eyes accusingly.

"So that's how it is now, is it? Whose side are you really on, Merlin? Mine or magic's?"

Merlin looked at Arthur in shock and sputtered, "Arthur, I-"

Arthur cut him off. "Between your fling with Freya and now the way you act around Balinor-like a puppy following its mother-I wonder where your loyalties really lie."

His words cut into Merlin's soul like a finely sharpened knife. Merlin bit back an angry retort. _But he mocked Freya, Father, and magic all at once! _his heart cried. _Don't give your secrets away now, just because you're both upset_, Merlin coached himself. He settled for a vague but emphatic response while he sorted out his thoughts.

"It's not like that-"

Arthur didn't let him finish. "No, it is, _Mer_lin. It's a simple question. Did you break me out of Camelot's dungeons because you're actually loyal to me or because you're only loyal to whoever this Prophecy thinks I'll become?"

Merlin just blinked at him for a second.

"Arthur, you're my friend," he said at last. "I did it because I'm loyal to you."

Arthur exhaled loudly as though he'd been holding his breath. _Maybe he had_, Merlin thought as he crossed the distance between them.

"I'm loyal to _you_, Arthur. Don't ever doubt that."

"I wouldn't if you'd start acting like it again."

Arthur brushed past Merlin and marched back inside. His footfalls echoed down to Merlin in the courtyard, followed eventually by the slam of a chamber door.

Merlin sighed and slowly walked back inside. Two flights below the throne room, a hand reached out of an unused spare room and yanked Merlin inside. Merlin yelped in surprise.

"Hush, you scream like a girl," Gwaine mocked, stepping back and pulling Merlin further into the disused chamber.

"What was that for?" Merlin asked indignantly. _I've just been yelled at once already, thank you very much_.

Gwaine crossed his arms and leaned against the window frame that overlooked the courtyard.

"I wanted to have a chat where Princess wouldn't overhear."

"About what?" Merlin asked nervously, sitting down cautiously in a rickety-looking chair next to the large round table in the center of the sizable chamber. Gwaine cut to the chase.

"You admitted you had magic when I first caught you with Feathers-but that's not the whole story, is it?"

"What do you mean?" Merlin hedged.

"You can do magic without incantations, can't you?"

Merlin blinked at him. _How does he know that?_

"You sent Feathers to Balinor's chair to make it look like he was his bird instead of yours, all without saying a word. Your eyes didn't even turn gold-like it took so little effort that it didn't even register as doing magic. That's a lot of power, mate."

"Um, yeah, I guess," Merlin admitted as casually as he could manage, tracing the carved runes on the table in front of him.

"Which makes me think you're not being completely honest with me, Merlin...or should I say, _Emrys_?"

"What?" Merlin squawked, whipping his head up to meet Gwaine's eyes.

"It's not hard to put together. Those things Balinor said Emrys has done for Arthur," Gwaine said, "All happened after you arrived in Camelot, didn't they? You've been looking out for him."

_No way out of this now_. Merlin rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Um, yes?"

Gwaine laughed and strode toward the table. Merlin jumped up and took a cautious step back, knocking over the rickety chair in the process, bringing his hand up defensively.

"You're not-I don't know-angry?"

"'Course not, mate. I think it's brilliant!"

Merlin remained guarded. The two men stood awkwardly several feet apart.

"And you're not scared of me?"

Gwaine's face suddenly grew serious.

"No, not exactly. That life-and-death stuff's a bit much, I'll grant you," Gwaine said slowly, before adding, "And, I am a tiny bit ticked you didn't tell me who you were in the first place."

"But you understand why, right?" Merlin pleaded with his eyes. "You saw how Arthur reacted."

Gwaine flipped his hair out of his eyes.

"I know, mate. So here's what you can do to make it up to me." His eyes suddenly took on an impish twinkle as he walked over and slapped Merlin heartily on the back, leaving his arm slung around Merlin's shoulders. "You can help me play some fantastic magical pranks on Arthur and Elyan when he arrives."

"Ow!" Merlin said, laughing with relief. _I can handle that kind of penance_, he thought with a grin. "It's a deal."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Arthur still hadn't come out of his chambers after lunch. Merlin had lead Gwaine back to the throne room to let Balinor know the secret was out. The two men had listened raptly and asked many questions as Merlin fully recounted his tale, from first finding out about his shared destiny with Arthur to how it had brought them so far from Camelot. The saga had taken the rest of the morning and the entire midday meal to narrate.

After a good long nap and a helping of leftover breakfast ham, Ambrosius was off again for Camelot, bearing two messages from Merlin and one from Balinor. Before sending him off, Merlin cast a protective charm on the winged messenger, and Balinor loudly ordered the wyverns to let him pass safely out of the Perilous Lands.

"Good luck, Feathers," Gwaine said cheerfully, ruffling the bird's feathers affectionately. "I'll have an apple waiting for you when you get back."

Ambrosius chirped in appreciation, then leapt into the air and spread his graceful wings, soaring swiftly toward the southern horizon.

On the way back down the stairs, Merlin paused outside Arthur's door.

"Arthur?" he called, actually knocking as he did so.

No response. He knocked again.

"Would you like me to fetch you some lunch, sire?

Still no response.

Heart heavy, he turned away and followed his father and Gwaine back down the stairs.

**A/N: Thoughts? (I'm still accepting prank suggestions! I probably won't be able to use every single one, but I love hearing suggestions and trying to use them when I can—y'all are so creative and your ideas are really great!)**

**Guest review replies:**

_**Bookybookworm**_**: Thanks for reviewing! Yeah, Merlin's so conflicted about telling Arthur, poor guy. But Arthur will eventually learn the truth! :) Agreed about all the different possibilities…I'm just throwing one more in the mix ;)**

_**Guest #1: **_**I'm glad you like the pranking subplot :) Thanks for the suggestions! I'll add them to my growing list of possibilities! ;) I agree about Arthur needing to be on the giving as well as receiving end of the pranks ;) Good way for Merlin and Arthur to have some bonding time, I think—planning non-magical pranks together ;) And Morgana's going to send word back with Ambrosius, so Arthur will find out in 4 plot-days, promise! :) Thanks so much for leaving a review!**

_**Nance**_**: I'm pleased you felt Arthur's response was reasonable—he's still a prat, but less than he used to be, so I was feeling like he'd come a long way already to choose to leave the room before he lost his temper ;) And by now you know you were right about Gwaine, hehe! Have you been peeking at my plot-scribbling-notebook? ;) Excited about your suggestions—adding them to the list! :)**


	52. Chapter 52: Train of Thought

**A/N: Hi everyone! I'm pleased to say that seems to have just fixed the review-posting issue and all the missing reviews (at least on this fic) have been restored! I promise I'll get replies out to each of y'all who reviewed as quickly as I can! :)**

**Time to find out what's been going through Arthur's mind during all of this…On with the fic!**

Chapter 52: Train of Thought

Arthur, from where he lay sprawled facedown on the four poster bed, heard Merlin's knocking.

_He's actually knocking? _Arthur thought, not lifting his head. _That's odd_.

He didn't know what he would say to Merlin-or Gwaine or Emrys, for that matter-so he just lay where he was and said the only thing he could think of: nothing.

He wasn't even hungry, which was unusual for him. _I haven't been training and we've just rested for a day, so I guess that's not too surprising_.

He wouldn't admit to himself that the whole Emrys revelation had made him lose his appetite. _That sort of thing is for girls_, he thought, rolling over and staring at the ceiling while trying to make sense of his jumbled thoughts and emotions.

He thought through the list of times Emrys had claimed to have saved his life. _Could there have been non-magical explanations?_ If so, maybe the sorcerer was just lying to get Arthur to trust him.

_But that blue light in the caves,_ he thought. _That-that _had _to be magical. No other explanation._ He tried not to admit to himself how long he'd avoided thinking about it because even at the time there had been no reasonable explanation.

_So maybe he's telling the truth?_

That would be life-altering.

Arthur took a deep breath and a mental step back, considering the other situations Emrys had mentioned before allowing himself to come to any conclusions.

The defeat of Cornelius Sigan-that was a tricky one. He'd gone out to fight the stone creatures, had ordered his men back inside and faced the beasts alone-_but then what happened?_ There was a gap in his memory. He'd chalked it up to simply not remembering exactly how he'd defeated the creatures just before passing out due to blood loss from his wounds. _Injuries were complicated like that-did strange things to your memory_.

_But what if that's not what happened?_ the voice of Arthur's conscience (who sounded so very much like Guinevere) whispered gently. _What if-what if you passed out and Emrys saved Camelot while you lay on the courtyard cobblestones?_

Did he really think he could defeat an immortal sorcerer and not remember it? _You're impressive, Arthur, but every man has his limits_, Guinevere's voice pointed out.

Very uncomfortable with where that train of thought was heading, Arthur quickly moved to the final example: the bite of the Questing Beast.

His own memories wouldn't be of much use-he'd been essentially unconscious the whole time. All he remembered was snippets of garbled conversations as though caught between sleeping and waking. He remembered phrases of Guinevere's words-_something about the man I am inside?_-and, well, not much else.

He rolled off the bed and began to pace around the room, trying desperately to pull hidden memories to the surface. _There's got to be something that will help._

Nothing.

He kicked the jacket he'd left on the floor the night before. _Merlin, lazy idiot, didn't tidy up in here either—_

_Wait. Merlin_. Merlin's and Gaius' voices were among the garbled ones in his head, words of hope and eventually despair. _They thought I was going to die_, he realized, sitting down slowly in the armchair by the fireplace.

But Gaius had cured him-_Some ancient remedy or other, right?_ At least that's what they'd said. But if Gaius had despaired of curing him, then how had the elderly man managed it at the eleventh hour?

_Maybe he didn't_. It was a very unnerving thought. _Maybe Emrys_…

_No! _the voice of his father sliced through his thoughts. _Sorcerers conspire only to overthrow us!_

Guinevere's voice calmly replied, _Are you so very sure about that?_

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Daylight had faded, and still Arthur paced intermittently across his chamber. The Uther-voice and Guinevere-voice continued to war in his mind. No one had come back to try to coax him out of his room since Merlin had knocked and offered lunch. Arthur's stomach growled loudly in complaint.

_But do you blame them, Arthur?_ the Guinevere-voice prodded gently. _You continue to act as though you are Prince here, but this is Balinor's-Emrys'-kingdom. You are his sworn enemy, yet you were welcomed as a guest._

Arthur crossed his arms like a petulant child and stared out the window into the deepening darkness. _I can't believe I'm having this argument with myself_, he thought. He could barely make out the shapes of hunting wyverns headed south. Their piercing cries sent an involuntary shiver up his spine. Yet as he watched the eerie shapes shift and dive through the night, his thoughts wandered back to the last time he had heard Guinevere's voice tell him something similar. It had been actually Guinevere, his lovely Guinevere, speaking then, but this internal debate was disturbingly similar.

_"...How rude and arrogant you can be! This is my home and you are my guest in it..." _she had vented when he'd stayed in her home during the tournament he'd entered in disguise.

_"You're right. You have invited me into your home and I have behaved appallingly," _he'd replied.

"_A good king should respect his people, no matter who they are,"_ she had eventually pointed out.

_But did that apply to sorcerers, too?_

A sudden light knocking on the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Sire?" Merlin called. "I've brought you some supper. Thought you might be hungry."

Before he could reply or move to open the door, there was a slight clank of metal on stone and the sound of retreating footsteps.

Arthur crossed to the door and opened it slowly. A plate brimming with the best food from the cellar-freshly roasted meat, savory root vegetables, and a hunk of bread-and a pint of chilled mead sat on the ground just outside his door. Merlin was no where to be seen.

Arthur carefully picked up the plate and pint and carried them back into the chamber, closing the door with his foot as he did so.

_You shouldn't have shouted at him earlier_, the Guinevere-conscience observed.

He knew that was true. He'd regretted it almost immediately but buried those feelings under all the other ones he couldn't sort out. He'd questioned Merlin's loyalty, after the boy had left behind all the family and friends he had and become a fugitive to stay by Arthur's side.

_And he still brought you supper_.

Arthur ate ravenously, then collapsed into bed, still fully dressed, full of good food and completely emotionally exhausted.

_Maybe by morning I'll figure out what to do_, was his last thought before passing out.

**A/N: So…what'd you think?**

**Guest review replies:**

_**Guest #1**_**: Glad you liked this version of Gwaine ;) No, he didn't ask for mead…not yet, at least ;) Thanks for reviewing and for the congrats! I did tell the site admin and they've evidently fixed it!**

_**Nance**_**: Yeah, Arthur was overreacting but he did have a point, and Merlin has realized that. You're spot on that it's a big deal Merlin hasn't been spending all his time with Arthur. I think Merlin only knocks when things are really serious or really awkward—it feels in character to me, honestly. He knows his efforts to help have been rebuffed once and he doesn't want to force Arthur over the edge on such a delicate and personal issue, so he's trying to be more attentive and respectful, going out of his way to behave in a loyal and deferential manner, at least until Arthur's had time to calm down a bit. Um, I'm sort of assuming the Fortress had stables/somewhere on the ground level off the courtyard where the horses can shelter, or they're munching on the grass in the courtyard and magical wards are keeping them out of the vegetable patch. Balinor probably took care of them the night before, same as when he baked the bread and restocked the cellar. ;) I love the drunken-army prank idea! :D**

_**Guest #2**_**: I like your thinking—very creative ;) Thanks so much! I hope this chapter helped fill in the gaps left by ch 51 :)**

_**Bookybookworm**_**: No, it won't be on his deathbed! Promise. :) Thanks for the review and the congrats! :) **


	53. Chapter 53: Subtext

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews :) There's a chance I may not post tomorrow, but at the latest I'll have ch 54 posted by my Thursday evening.**

**On with the fic! ;)**

Chapter 53: Subtext

An ear-splittingly cheery "Rise and shine!" rattled Arthur back to consciousness. He blearily opened his eyes-only to shut them immediately as Merlin flung open the curtains on the windows facing south and east. Blinding light streamed in.

"Mmph," Arthur muttered and rolled over, automatically reaching to pull the bedcovers snug up to his chin.

He wasn't under any covers. He opened his eyes, trying to remember why he wasn't nestled under warm blankets. Merlin stood over him, hands on his hips and a comical expression on his face.

"What?" Arthur asked.

"You slept with your boots on, sire? Were you planning on sleepwalking?" the manservant quipped.

Arthur reached around and, finding nothing else suitable for throwing, yanked the pillow from under his head and launched it at Merlin's smirking face. The projectile pillow missed its mark entirely as the boy ducked with more grace than he ever bothered to exhibit when it actually mattered, Arthur noted. He let his head drop back-only to hit the firm mattress with a thud in the absence of the pillow he'd just thrown. He groaned.

"Well, sire, you'll just have to get up now, since I'm not bringing it back to you," Merlin announced as he scooped up the pillow and dropped it on the chair by the fireplace. He then began bustling about the room, stoking the fire, tidying up the dinner dishes, and folding the clothing Arthur had left strewn across the floor the previous morning.

"How are you so cheerful so early? It's indecent," Arthur muttered, rolling off the bed and looking around absently. He could never seem to get his mind working fully before he'd eaten in the mornings.

Merlin just ignored his comment and continued his bubbly rambling.

"...And I'll have your bath drawn in just a tick…"

Arthur looked around. _Oh, right, there's a tub...which wasn't there yesterday._ He scratched the back of his head, still standing aimlessly in the middle of the room. _How did Merlin get that in here this morning without me hearing?_

"...And the best part is," Merlin was still talking, apparently, "I don't have to worry about the water getting cold while hauling it up here!"

"Hmm, what?" Arthur asked as he started pulling off his boots, not really following the one-sided conversation.

"Balinor put a charm on the water buckets so the water will stay just hot enough, no matter how long they sit there."

"He used magic...on my _bathwater_?" Arthur asked, trying desperately to wrap his mind around words and thoughts and being awake and _magic_ and…

_It is far too early for all of this_, Arthur declared to himself.

"Yep!" Merlin replied happily. "Makes my job so much easier! We should find someone to do that for all the bathtubs back in Camelot." Merlin poured the last bucketful of water into the copper tub. "Do you have any idea how much time that would save?"

"_Mer_lin."

"Yes, sire?"

"Where's breakfast?" _Nothing makes sense until after breakfast_.

"Oh, um, downstairs?" Merlin replied innocently.

Arthur sighed. _Guess I'll have to face Emrys again...and I still don't know what to say to him_.

Guinevere's voice-the voice of reason, as always-replied, _Well, you could start by behaving like a well-mannered guest and actually go down for breakfast_.

"Well, then, hurry up with the bath," Arthur ordered.

Merlin obliged, keeping up his chipper monologue as he helped Arthur change and settle into his bath. The servant then made the bed and swept the floor. Arthur watched him work, pondering again their conversation the day before.

_I really was too hard on him_, Arthur thought. _But what do I do about it?_

Guinevere's voice came to his rescue yet again: _You could always apologize._

_To _Mer_lin? You must be joking._

No answer. He could just imagine his Guinevere standing there with her hands on her hips, giving him a look that said she was perfectly serious. She'd naturally be embarrassed to have been so forward after the fact, but she always said what he needed to hear.

_I wish she was here_…

_Back to Merlin_, his conscience reminded him. _You still owe him an apology_.

Arthur sighed. Merlin looked up sharply.

"Sire? Is the water too cold?"

"No...actually, it's perfect." _Maybe Merlin has a point about the bathwater…_

He shoved the idea to the back of his mind and focused on trying to figure out how one goes about apologizing to one's servant...and before breakfast, to boot.

"Merlin?" Arthur began.

"Yes, sire?"

"I just wanted to say, well, that it was, um…"

Merlin watched him with apparently growing confusion.

"...Uh, that I'm glad that you came with me when I left Camelot."

Merlin's confusion melted into a beaming smile. "'Course I did! How else were you going to manage to dress and eat without me?"

This time, Arthur was already armed. The scrubbing brush flew through the air, just missing Merlin as he grabbed the supper dishes and dove out the door.

Arthur heard an "oomph" and a series of clanks as his clumsy friend tumbled down the first couple of stairs to the nearest landing.

_That was sort of your fault_, the Guinevere-voice informed him matter-of-factly.

"Um, Merlin?" he called hesitantly.

A muffled but surprisingly still upbeat "Yes, Arthur?" floated up from the landing, as Arthur heard the scuffling of the boy righting himself and gathering up the scattered dishes.

_Good, he's fine_, Arthur thought. Aloud, he replied, "Hurry up with that and get back here-I don't want to miss breakfast again!"

**A/N: So much bromance, at least in the subtext ;) What'd you think?**

**Guest review replies:**

_**Nance**_**: Thanks so much for your kind and complimentary remarks about ch 52! I'm glad you liked the ongoing theme of Arthur's inner dialogue sounding like Uther and Gwen. ;) I'm so glad you like the way I'm handling thoughts in italics…it does get a bit confusing when people are both thinking to themselves and projecting certain thought to other characters in the same chapter, but other than that, I've found it makes it easier to follow both as a writer and a reader! :)**

_**Guest #1**_**: Thanks for reviewing ch 52! As far as the eventual Arthur!reveal, I have something very specific cooked up, but your idea was still cool :) I like your idea about Leon's POV during Uther's announcement about Morgana! I'm already planning, too, to have Gwen do more of the being-Morgana's-eyes-and-ears-around-the-castle role, so you'll get more people's perspectives that way through her interactions. More Morgana soon, I promise! One more chapter of the Perilous Lands, I think, then back to Camelot for a bit ;)**

_**Guest #2**_**: Thanks for leaving a review on ch 1 about Leon's indestructible nature…yes, I plan on making use of that running joke later on! ;)**

_**Reader**_**: Thanks for leaving a review! I promise Merlin's going to get a lot of father-son time with Balinor in this fic ;) As for the rest of your comment, well, you'll just have to keep reading! ;)**

_**Bookybookworm**_**: Thanks for reviewing! I'm glad you're excited about the pranks! I haven't actually decided yet, but I will soon ;) Hope you enjoyed ch 53!**

_**Guest #3**_**: Haha, your suggestion was entertaining ;) Yeah, that probably would have gotten Arthur out of his room…but then again, so does breakfast ;) Thanks for reviewing!**


	54. Chapter 54: Small Steps

**A/N: Update as promised! :) On with the fic!**

Chapter 54: Small Steps

Gwaine and Balinor had just sat down to breakfast when they heard an "oomph" and a series of clanks from the stairwell.

"That'll be Merlin," Gwaine observed pleasantly, not looking up.

"Does he always do that?" Balinor asked, pausing with his fork in mid-air.

"Mmhmm," Gwaine muttered around a mouthful of breakfast ham. He swallowed and added, "It's amazing the lad doesn't have scars all over."

_Maybe he does_, Balinor thought, feeling his stomach turn slightly. He set down his fork and reached for a hunk of bread instead. _He's hidden so much for so long...what's to stop him from hiding scars, too?_

"So I've been thinking," Gwaine began, oblivious to Balinor's worries. "How did you know who we were? I mean, it's not like we wore placards-" he gestured to an imaginary sign with both hands, "'Once-and-Future-King and Friends: Please Don't Feed to Wyverns!'"

He picked up an apple, polished it on his tunic, and took a huge bite.

"Merlin," Balinor said simply, before taking another bite of bread.

Gwaine nodded. "But how, exactly? Is it some sort of hocus-y pocus-y thing only magical people understand?"

"Hmm, sort of."

"So…?" The unmagical man clearly wanted an explanation nonetheless.

"Merlin-_Emrys_-has this, for lack of a better word, _signature_."

"Signature?" Gwaine repeated, not comprehending.

Balinor elaborated.

"A sort of aura, if you will. Non-magical beings wouldn't sense it, and only creatures of magic and well-trained, powerful sorcerers would be able to actually see it."

"See it? So Merlin glows?" Gwaine chuckled and mimicked a little girl with his falsetto. "Like a faery?"

"Hmm, yes, a bit."

Gwaine stopped mid-chuckle and looked at Balinor.

"You're serious?"

Balinor nodded. "To those with strong magic, he radiates power, more than any other being I've ever met. I can sense it from half a league away, but even I can only see it in my mind's eye if I concentrate."

He poured himself another mug of water.

"A fully trained priest or priestess would be able to see it without difficulty, I imagine."

"So you sensed that Emrys was coming? That's why we weren't wyvern-lunch?"

Balinor nodded seriously.

"Huh," Gwaine mused.

There was a lull in the conversation as both men resumed eating, lost in thought. Gwaine soon picked up the conversation again.

"So what's this signature look like, then?"

_Silence never lasts long around him, does it?_ Balinor thought.

"Like you said, it's sort of a glow, like he's pulsing with light from within...deep blue and gold." Balinor took a sip of water. "You get a glimpse of it each time he does magic."

"The way his eyes-?"

Balinor nodded.

"And that's how Feathers-?"

"Yes. I imagine-"

Suddenly Merlin's voice cut into Balinor's mind: _Arthur and I are coming down now._ Balinor set down his mug and quickly switched topics.

"-So tell me, Sir Strength, how you came to be traveling with Prince Arthur and Merlin?"

Gwaine looked confused.

"But we were still-" Gwaine's eyebrows shot up and he mouthed "_Oh_."

Arthur appeared in the doorway, followed closely by Merlin. Balinor rose to greet them.

"Good morning, Prince Arthur, Merlin. I trust you slept well, your highness?"

Balinor could read Arthur's discomfort, but the young prince had come out of his chamber and Merlin was smiling behind him. _Those are good signs._

The prince answered stiffly, "I slept well, thank you."

Merlin stifled laughter behind the prince.

"_Mer_lin," Arthur warned as he turned his attention back to Balinor.

The older man decided to make it easy for him. "I hope your accommodations were suitable? I'm sure they are not up to the standard you are used to, but if there's anything I can do to make your stay here more pleasant, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Thank you, Emrys," Arthur replied carefully. It appeared as though a thought crossed his mind slowly as the young man's face brightened a bit. "And, uh, thank you for the thing with the bathwater."

"The _bathwater_?" Balinor repeated, confused.

Merlin piped up, coming to stand next to Arthur, "Yes, I told him how you'd charmed the buckets to keep the water nice and hot."

_All right, whatever you say_,Balinor thought to himself. "Of course, your highness," he replied graciously to Arthur.

"Right, then!" Merlin announced, striding forward, "Let's get you some breakfast, sire!"

The three men joined Gwaine at the table. Balinor noticed, much to his amusement, that Gwaine had taken the opportunity to nick the remaining apples from the bowl before Arthur got there.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Once Arthur had eaten his fill in silence, deep in thought, he pushed back his plate and addressed Balinor again. _Time to get this over with_, the prince thought grimly.

"You were frank with me yesterday, so now I'll be frank with you."

Balinor nodded slightly in acknowledgement.

"This is your fortress and I am your guest in it. You are king here now, regardless of whether you came to this station by blood or by…chance."

The conversation with Guinevere when he was her guest flitted through his mind again as he gathered his thoughts, which was considerably easier now that he was full of ham and bread.

"I acknowledge that I reacted to your admission yesterday in a manner not befitting a knight, nor of one noble to another. I ask you to humbly accept my apology."

Balinor and Merlin raised matching eyebrows of surprise. Gwaine's jaw dropped open comically.

Merlin noticed after a moment and hissed teasingly, "You trying to catch flies?"

Gwaine snapped his jaw shut with a click. Arthur took a deep breath and continued as though nothing had happened.

"I have cannot disprove your claims to have saved my life, and as such, by the knights' code, I am indebted to you."

Arthur noted it was Merlin's turn to catch flies. _Why is it so surprising to everyone that I'm apologizing? _he griped to himself._ I'll have to ask Merlin about that._

"Your apology is humbly accepted," Balinor replied with wide grin, very reminiscent of the way Merlin had beamed at him earlier that morning.

"Thank you, Emrys," Arthur continued, "Now there are several matters I wish to discuss with you. I confess I still have many questions."

_That's a massive understatement_.

"And I am not entirely comfortable with an alliance…"

_Fifty leagues from comfortable, actually._

"…but I owe you the chance to explain yourself."

Uther's voice screamed in Arthur's head: _What are you doing? He's a sorcerer!_

Guinevere's voice replied, _And he deserves to heard nonetheless._

Balinor's reply cut into Arthur's thoughts, silencing his warring conscience for the moment.

"And what matters did you wish to discuss?"

"In my haste to leave Camelot, I have not had an opportunity to pause and plan a suitable course of action. I wish to discuss this with you, as well as with Gwaine and Merlin."

"Then I have news that will be of use to your planning."

Balinor leaned back in his chair and steepled his hands in front of him.

"According to my sources in Camelot, Elyan, brother of Guinevere, intends to escape and ride for Níþdraca to rejoin your company. If all has gone well, he may already be on his way."

"Then, with your permission, we will stay here to wait for him," Arthur said.

Balinor agreed.

_Good_, Arthur thought, _That'll give us time for proper planning—and to hear the rest of Emrys' explanation_.

**A/N: If y'all are willing, I'd especially appreciate feedback about the dialogue in today (and yesterday's) chapter(s). I've been sort of experimenting—or at least I think I am!—with a couple of different approaches to dialogue the past couple of days, so I'd **_**love**_** to hear how they read to y'all. (In particular, I'm curious for feedback concerning realism, keeping in-character/unique voices, and pacing/efficiency in moving the plot along, but any feedback would be fantastic and helpful.) Thanks! :D**

**Guest review replies:**

_**Nance**_**: Aww, thank you so very much for your review and your compliments. I'm so pleased you felt like it read that well! That's honestly what I was hoping for but afraid I wouldn't achieve :) Haha, really? Perfect timing, then! ;)**

_**Bookybookworm**_**: Thanks for reviewing! I'm glad you approve of the bromance, the attempted-apology, and the Gwen-conscience. Yes, I can't think of a better person for the job either ;)**

_**Guest**_**: I thought it might be just one reviewer from the writing style and time the posts were written, but I didn't want to assume and short-change someone a reply ;) Thanks, then, for both reviews as well as this latest one! Your ideas are definitely not twaddle ;) Hope you enjoyed this update!**


	55. Chapter 55: Announcement

**A/N: Thanks for the plethora of favs, follows, and reviews! :) Also, a special thank-you to **_**whenithitsthefan**_**, who gave this fic a lovely recommendation in her latest A/N on the fic she's writing. :) Her fic, a Merlin/HP crossover called "Harry Potter and the Name of Merlin," is a lot of fun—if y'all like crossovers, y'all should definitely check it out! ;)**

**A quick tangent/disclaimer—as was the case many chapters ago, when Ambrosius first started tracking Merlin by his "lighthouse beacon" magical signature, the idea for Merlin's magical signature as described in ch 54 came to me after stumbling across a particularly gorgeous piece of fan art on Pinterest. I do not have any rights to that image—I want to give credit where credit is due. So yeah, there are some very, very talented fans out there! :) Here, again, is the link to the original image (just take out the spaces): **

** alexandarcho. Deviantart art /So-you-wanna -play-with-magic- 440 242 462**

**And now, faithful readers, we pick up the threads of the fic we last saw in ch 48—events in Camelot and the future-knights' progress toward ****Níþdraca****. On with the fic!**

Chapter 55: Announcement

That night, still several leagues from Níþdraca, Lancelot called a halt to their travel for the night. Percival had made it clear that traveling by night through the Perilous Lands was too fraught with danger, but he hadn't elaborated why.

_I'm sure I don't want to know_, Lancelot thought to himself, suppressing a slight shudder as they made camp. There was no cover to speak of, so instead they built a hearty fire with the plentiful gnarled wood scattered across the landscape. After ground-hobbling their horses so they could seek what little forage they could find during the night, the three travelers huddled tightly around the fire and ate a meager supper.

"Our provisions are nearly out," Elyan observed with some concern as they rationed out what little they had left.

"We should reach Níþdraca before supper tomorrow," Percival replied.

"Let's hope this Fisher King has enough provisions for additional guests."

Lancelot alone voiced the concern, but from his companions' expressions, he could tell they were worried, too. Grunts of agreement were the only response as the other two savored their tiny meal.

_Let's hope breakfast won't be our last meal for a while_, Lancelot thought grimly as he bit into his own portion.

Despite his exhaustion, Lancelot's mind was racing, so he offered to take the first watch of the night. As the other men settled down on their bedrolls and were soon fast asleep, Lancelot sat stiffly on a dried-out log, his sword resting across his knees.

Soon after Percival and Elyan fell asleep, Lancelot heard an eerie screeching in the distance. He didn't want to wake his companions unless whatever it was came closer, so he sat silently, his right hand clenching the hilt of his sword.

_Whatever it is, it's hunting…in packs_, he thought grimly. _Doesn't sound like any beast I've ever encountered._

He shifted uncomfortably. His left foot had fallen asleep and his knees ached from several days in the saddle.

_What I wouldn't give to have Merlin here—we just might need a man of his talents before this night is through_.

In an attempt to distract himself from the beasts' cries just enough to calm his nerves, he let his mind drift along that train of though. It had been months since he and Merlin had last spoken, not since the day he had left Guinevere without saying goodbye.

_Does Merlin still hide his gifts from Arthur?_ the noble commoner wondered. It was hard to believe that Merlin could keep such a thing secret when he spent so much of his time with the prince.

_Yet, somehow, he had managed it for many months already_, he mused. _And what of this Fisher King? Will he have helped them or turned them away?_

He sighed and shifted again to prevent his other foot from falling asleep.

_We'll find out soon enough—if we make it through the night_.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The next morning, many leagues south, there was a great commotion in the castle of Camelot. The king had reconvened the previous morning's interrupted council meeting and insisted that the highest ranking knights also attend. Sir Leon glanced around the room from where he stood with a group of his brothers-in-arms off to the king's right. The council chamber was awash in muttered rumor and conjecture as Uther finally rose from his throne and raised his hands for silence.

"Yesterday, as many of you are aware, we received word that Arthur has traveled to the Perilous Lands. It is clear he intends to ally himself with the Dragonlord Balinor-who now styles himself Emrys among his other false titles-at the Fortress of Níþdraca."

The king paused as muttering rippled through the chamber again.

"I will personally lead a siege force against them. Magic and treason-neither shall be tolerated in Camelot."

Sir Geoffrey spoke up, "Sire, who shall govern in your absence? As we discussed yesterday, the legal ramifications are-"

Uther cut him off, brushing his comment aside.

"I have made arrangements."

To Leon's surprise, the king turned to the Lady Morgana, seated on her carved chair beside the king's, and beckoned her forward. Dressed in a simple but elegant gown of Camelot red with golden embroidery, she rose gracefully and accepted the king's proffered elbow, a demure expression gracing her lovely features. The king and his ward exchanged a brief, meaningful look.

_What is going on? _Sir Leon wondered. _Surely he doesn't mean to...no, no, that would be absurd._

Once she was standing beside him, the king turned his attention back to his knights and courtiers.

"Few of you are aware, as the matter was kept very private, but recent events have not left me without an heir. The Lady Morgana is, in fact, my daughter."

_What?_ Sir Leon thought-he honestly didn't know what else to think.

If there had been a ripple of murmuring before, now it crashed over the room like a tidal wave. One voice carried over the torrent.

"Forgive me, sire," Sir Geoffrey began, "but is there anyone who can corroborate this?"

The king exchanged a quick glance with the elderly court physician, who calmly stepped forward.

"I corroborate the king's statement. The Lady Morgana is the daughter of our esteemed king and the late Lady Vivienne."

Sir Geoffrey bowed and melted back into the cluster of muttering council members.

The king continued, "I therefore intend to install my daughter into her rightful role as Princess of Camelot and, furthermore, as Regent in my upcoming absence. The ceremony shall take place tomorrow afternoon, followed by a feast in her honor."

Sir Leon was surprised, to say the least. _I knew he meant to name a Regent, but to choose the Lady Morgana? _he mused. _Even if she is of royal blood, she is inexperienced and unprepared for such a serious duty._

He heard one of the knights behind him express a similar sentiment under his breath to the knight on his right, but in far less complimentary terms that Leon wouldn't be caught dead repeating—especially not in mixed company.

Leon squared his shoulders. _I assured the king that I and my men would accept whomever he chose as Regent, and I intend to keep my end of the bargain._

The king made one final announcement: "Following the feast, the siege force will begin full preparations. We will ride out in one week's time. Council dismissed."

Leon watched as the king departed smoothly from the room without another word, the lovely Lady-_no, Princess_-Morgana still on his arm.

_Time to get to work_, Leon thought grimly. He had much to accomplish in the next seven days. _And not just preparing for a winter siege_, he noted, observing the heated debate all around him as the council and knights dispersed.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Gwen was waiting for Morgana when she reached her chambers after the council meeting.

"Ambrosius arrived while you were gone!" she exclaimed as soon as Morgana had shut the door, gesturing toward where the feathered messenger sat napping on the footboard of Morgana's bedframe.

"Finally!" Morgana replied, hurrying across the room to retrieve the messages while the small hawk continued to sleep.

_Three messages this time_, she noticed. _And two of them won't open at my touch...are they both for Gaius?_

Gwen watched Morgana eagerly.

"What news of Arthur?" she blurted at last as Morgana finished skimming the one message she could open.

Morgana glanced up and Gwen, realizing what she had said, blushed.

"...And Merlin and...um, whatever the other one's name was?" she quickly amended, but it was too late.

"_Arthur's_ fine, according to Emrys," Morgana teased with a smile, "And so are Merlin, Gwaine, and Balinor, it seems."

Morgana's expression grew more serious. "Balinor has welcomed them at Níþdraca, so it is good that we sent Elyan, Lancelot, and Percival to join them." She sighed. "They'll need all the help they can get, what with Uther's siege force coming."

She stared off into space for a moment, her brow furrowed.

"Milady?" Gwen asked, touching Morgana's arm gently.

Morgana shook off her pensive thoughts for the moment.

"Come, Gwen, we must take these messages to Gaius. We need to send word of everything that's happened to Emrys as soon as possible."

**A/N: I confess I'm not entirely satisfied with how this chapter turned out (hence the 24-hour delay in posting), but I guess it does its job to keep the plot moving, so I'm going to stop being frustrated with it, post it, and move on to writing the next one ;) Any feedback at all would be appreciated, as always!**

**Guest review replies:**

_**Nance**_**: Thanks for reviewing ch 53 & 54 specifically for dialogue and for your complimentary words! I'm so glad you found the "apparently" line so funny! :) In my mind, Arthur is one of those people who can't function without their morning coffee—but unfortunately for Arthur, coffee won't be imported to Europe from the New World for several hundred more years, so breakfast has to function as a weak substitute ;) I'm glad that his befuddled state was obvious in the chapter :) I'm also pleased you thought the dialogue worked well in ch 54—I was trying to vary it depending on who else was in the conversation, the way real people do ;) That was my hope—to show Arthur rising above prejudice to do what needed to be done, showing where he is heading as a character and future king. I'm pleased you like the additional detail of Merlin/Balinor's interaction. As will hopefully become apparent later, Merlin is aware that magical beings have signatures for tracking purposes (and he can sense the presence of powerful magic in both beings and objects), but he has no idea what his own aura is like or that it's so vivid/powerful—he's just used to it and doesn't know it's there. He'll likely be just as shocked as Gwaine when someone finally describes it to him, hehe ;)**

_**Guest #1**_**: Thanks for reviewing ch 54! :) Thanks for the compliments :) I hope you enjoyed today's update!**

_**Bookybookworm**_**: Aww, thank you so much for your super-encouraging review! I'd love to become an author (at least part-time) someday…that is, if I ever finish my novel draft and find people who'll publish (and read) it! I'm so pleased you enjoyed the Balinor/Gwaine convo :)**

_**Guest #2**_**: Thanks for reviewing! Glad you enjoyed that line :) Hmm, good question, I don't know if placards were officially a thing back then, but I'm sure they had/made signs of one kind or another, so I'm hoping it's not too far of a stretch, what with the modern dialogue/idiom of the show and some of its inconsistencies (i.e. tomatoes and potatoes are mentioned but wouldn't have been imported until a couple centuries later). Thanks for keeping an eye out for that, though! I'm trying to be as careful as I reasonably can about not including things that are blatantly anachronistic ;) As for Dragoon—I honestly don't know yet ;)**


	56. Chapter 56: Dabbling in Falconry

**A/N: Hellooooo, lovely readers! I've missed y'all this week! Thanks for your patience with my injury-absence and all the kind messages/reviews! My wrists aren't quite back to normal but they are much better, so I'm easing back into writing again. As a result, I'm only posting ch 56 tonight, but I think it's the longest chapter yet, so hopefully y'all won't come after me with pitchforks! :/ Ch 57 will be written and posted either tomorrow or the day after, depending on whether my wrists continue to tolerate as much typing as I've done yesterday and today.**

**Also, I'm still slowly going back through old chapters, adding the cover art credit and fixing typos, so if you are getting a spree of "chapter update" notifications this week, my apologies. :/**

**Speaking of cover art, the awesome cover for this fic was created by AlexandarCho over on DeviantArt and is used with her permission. (Yay!) You can check out the original image by looking up her gallery under her profile ("AlexandarCho") on the DeviantArt site...I can't seem to get a working link to post. The original image is called "So you wanna play with magic?" :)**

**Disclaimer: I own neither the awesome cover art, nor Merlin (the BBC doesn't like to share, apparently). **

**On with the fic!**

Chapter 56: Dabbling in Falconry

"You're such a girl, _Mer_lin," Arthur groaned, leaning back in his armchair and kicking his feet out in front of him on the large animal skin rug in front of the fireplace.

Merlin was undeterred.

"C'mon, Arthur, don't be a prat-you have got to see it!"

"Fine," Arthur sighed, slowly untangling himself from his comfortable seat. "Though personally I don't see the point of hiking up all those bloody stairs just to look at the view."

_It's just a reminder of how trapped I feel_.

Merlin was chattering away as Arthur followed him out of his chamber and started up the spiral stairs.

"It's best at sunrise and sunset, but even now you can see for leagues in every direction-maybe we'll even be able to see Elyan coming!"

_Hmm,_ Arthur thought, _now that's a better reason_.

The stairs didn't tire him out. After all, he was "fighting fit" as he frequently reminded Merlin. In fact, he was getting restless for some exercise and training.

_Maybe Gwaine would fancy some training this afternoon...if not, there's always Merlin._

The unfortunate servant in question was taking the stairs two at a time. Arthur noticed absently when they reached the top that Merlin wasn't even breathing hard.

_Hmm, I guess training with me has paid off,_ he thought, pleased with himself that-despite Merlin's constant complaints-the training had done the skinny boy some good. His thoughts returned to planning a training session for himself later. _Swords, I think, though if Balinor has a couple of maces lying around this old place, that'd be even better._ But his train of thought derailed as he and Merlin stepped through the small wooden door.

_Merlin was right_, Arthur thought grudgingly as he looked out across the wild landscape, _The view is breathtaking_.

Merlin strode over to the wall and leaned both elbows on the wind-battered stones. He looked out into the distance, a pensive expression on his face.

_I wonder what he's thinking_,Arthur mused as he watched his friend. _It's either completely stupid or weirdly profound—you never know with him._

Suddenly Merlin stiffened and stared intently toward the southeastern horizon.

"What is it?" Arthur asked, straining his eyes to see what Merlin saw.

All he could see was a faint dark blur, still several leagues away at least. _Maybe Elyan?_ he mused. _Who else would want to cross this wretched land?_

Merlin's next words surprised him.

"There are three riders!"

"Don't be an idiot, _Mer_lin," Arthur sighed. "There's no way you can possibly tell they're on horseback from this distance, when I can't even see how many shapes there are."

"Well, obviously, you need to have Gaius check your eyes when we get back to Camelot," Merlin said with a smug grin as he turned to head down the stairs again.

"Where do you think you're going?" Arthur demanded. "You can't just leave right after you dragged me up here!"

"Um, to prepare additional guest chambers?" Merlin said, rubbing the back of his neck.

_Oh, fair point_.

"Well, hurry up, then," Arthur agreed gruffly, turning back to stare at the tiny dark blur inching its way towards the fortress. "And since I'm already up here, I'm going to stay and properly 'admire the view.'"

After he heard Merlin shut the door and scramble back down the spiral stairs, he squinted, willing the dark blur to come into focus. Try as he might, the blur stubbornly refused to sharpen into a clear image. Confused by his apparent rapid onset of near-sightedness, Arthur turned and slowly descended the stairs. Another thought cropped up, adding to his bewilderment.

_If Merlin's right and there are three riders, then who has Elyan brought with him?_

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Father!" Merlin puffed, skidding into his father's chambers on the floor below the throne room.

Balinor sat hunched in deep concentration at his table on the far side of the chamber. Golden-red late afternoon sun streamed in the southwestern facing windows, illuminating his work surface. He looked up when Merlin spoke.

"Ah, Merlin," he smiled broadly, set down the wood carving he was working on, and stood, "What can I do for you, son?"

_I take it Arthur is out of earshot?_ he added, quirking an eyebrow.

"Yes," Merlin confirmed aloud, racing on to his news, "Elyan's nearly here-only a few leagues off!"

Merlin thought Balinor's grin grew even wider-if that were possible.

"Excellent! We'll have to prepare him a room and a feast," he mused. "I'm sure he'll be exhausted after his journey."

Merlin fidgeted slightly. "Um, actually, we're going to need extra rooms."

"Extra?" Balinor asked, looking confused.

"There are two other men with him."

Balinor's expression instinctively hardened into a reserved mask. "Do you know them? Are they friend or foe?"

"Friends, definitely," Merlin grinned, relieved to see Balinor's expression relax. "I know one of them-Lancelot-and he already knows of my gift."

Balinor turned back to the table, gathered up the partially finished wood-carving and the knife, and crossed to deposit them in the cupboard near the bed. Merlin couldn't tell what the carving was supposed to be yet, but he was sure that whatever his father made would be wonderful.

_Maybe he can teach me wood-carving, too._

Merlin watched as Balinor muttered a spell and the wood shavings on the table swirled upward into the air like a small tornado and vanished in a puff of white mist, which dissipated swiftly, leaving behind a soft fragrance of pine and lavender.

Merlin rubbed the back of his neck. "Can you, uh, teach me how to do that?" he asked quietly. "That would really come in handy for cleaning up after the prat…"

Balinor chuckled.

"With pleasure."

The sorcerer rubbed his hands together thoughtfully, then held his hands out, palms down, over the table.

"_Geondsæwaþ þá dúst_," he said, his eyes glowing.

A scattering of dirt fell from his outstretched palms like snow, coating the table's surface lightly and evenly. Satisfied, he closed his hands into fists and the dustfall stopped. He brushed his palms off and turned to Merlin.

"All right, now it's your turn."

Merlin didn't miss a beat before holding out his hands and eagerly repeating, "_Geondsæwaþ þá dúst_!"

Balinor stepped forward and held up his hand, looking startled. Merlin stopped the shower of dirt abruptly and stepped back, looking over at him.

"Did I do it wrong?" he asked. He could feel his face flushing.

Balinor laughed. Merlin was growing more mortified by the second.

"No, of course not!" his father said, glancing at the small mound of dirt Merlin's enthusiasm had created. "In fact, I may put you to work in the vegetable garden later-you conjured quite a bit of first-rate topsoil."

"So why did you stop me?" Merlin asked slowly. _I still don't understand_. His cheeks were burning now.

"I meant that it was your turn to try the cleaning spell-but I suppose it's more fun to make the mess than to clean it up," Balinor smiled reassuringly.

"Arthur _Prat_dragon certainly thinks so," Merlin quipped, incredibly relieved.

"Then this spell will definitely come in handy," Balinor's eyes twinkled merrily as he pulled out a chair away from the table and sat aside it, with a good vantage point to watch Merlin practice. He leaned his elbows on the back of the chair, gesturing as he spoke. "Now, the spell itself is very simple, but the intent is extremely important, especially when dealing with more...distasteful...messes."

"Okay…" Merlin nodded.

"The mist that results will take on the fragrance of the essence of the thing dissolved, like distilling a perfume. Things like wood shavings and clean topsoil aren't bad, since they create fragrances like pine and lavender, or petrichor-"

"-The smell of dust after rain-" Merlin nodded.

"-Right," Balinor confirmed. "But something like...hmm," he fished for a suitable example.

"Arthur's socks?" Merlin offered, unable to restrain his cheeky grin.

Balinor snorted in amusement.

"Hmm, yes, like Arthur's socks, well-you'll have to be intentional about what fragrance you want to result, or you'll have to add something pleasant to the mix first before clearing away the whole thing."

Merlin nodded and stepped over to the table again. He held up his hands and closed his eyes, concentrating.

Balinor said quietly, "Now repeat after me: _Áfeormaþ ond récelsaþ_."

Merlin opened his eyes slowly. His eyes glowed fiery gold as he repeated the spell.

"_Áfeormaþ ond récelsaþ_!"

The result was instantaneous. The topsoil spiraled up into a pillar of swirling dust, distilled into a vivid blue mist at the top, and swiftly dissipated into wispy tendrils reaching into every corner of the chamber. As the final wisps dissolved, Balinor inhaled slowly and deeply through his nose.

"Mmm, petrichor and…"

"-Green apples?" finished Merlin, quirking a lopsided smile.

"Indeed," replied Balinor with a smile and a teasing raised eyebrow that would have made Gaius proud.

_I bet that's where he learned it_, Merlin thought in passing.

"Well, I'm hungry," Merlin replied aloud in mock indignation.

Both men laughed, but his craving for apples reminded him why he in Balinor's chambers in the first place.

"Oh! Right!" Merlin exclaimed. "Food and lodging!"

He hopped up to sit on the edge of the table, long legs swinging slowly, and looked at Balinor.

"So where are we going to put them all?"

"Well, it's an entire royal fortress with only four current residents...it's not like we have a shortage of unoccupied chambers," his father replied.

Merlin slowly allowed that to process.

"...Then why in the world have I been sharing chambers with _Gwaine_?"

He shuddered a bit. Though Gwaine had been gracious and let him have the sole bed, Gwaine' sleep-talking was really starting to get on his nerves.

"Because I didn't want to make Arthur suspicious by giving the servant the best quarters, nor did I want to make him feel more uncomfortable-more vulnerable-than he was likely already feeling by splitting up his party on separate floors."

_Oh. I hadn't thought of that_.

Merlin nodded and Balinor continued with a mischievous glint in his eye, "But if you're restless for some extra space to, say, 'dabble in falconry' in your free time, then I think Elyan's company's arrival is an excellent excuse to make some changes."

Merlin sighed in relief. Balinor thought for a moment.

"Will all of you want your own chambers? Or could some of the lads double up?"

"But I thought you said there were plenty of rooms?" Merlin asked, perplexed.

"Not all of them are in good repair-with the fall of the Dragonlords, Uther's men looted the fortress and destroyed much of the furnishings. So sharing rooms means less furniture to repair or conjure, you see."

Merlin hummed in agreement. He leaned back on his arms on the table, glancing up at the mahogany coffered ceiling as he thought for a second.

"Well, Arthur can't share with Elyan or Lancelot…"

Balinor shot him a confused look.

"Arthur and Lancelot are in love with the same woman...and Elyan's her only brother."

"_Oh_," Balinor said, cracking an amused smile. "So probably best not put Elyan and Lancelot together, either?"

"Hmm, probably not."

"What about Gwaine and Lancelot together?"

"No-only one bed in Gwaine's chamber, remember?"

"Hmm."

"And you don't know the third companion?"

"No," Merlin confirmed with a sigh.

Balinor suddenly smacked his hands down on the back of the chair and stood.

"Then it looks like we've a lot of furniture to mend, my son. Care to join me for a bit more 'falconry' before they arrive?"

**A/N: Banter, bonding, a 'falconry' lesson, AND a Doctor Who reference-all in one chapter! I hope you enjoyed it! As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts on what's working and what I could be doing better :) ****By the way, the phrase "Arthur **_**Prat**_**dragon" that I used in this chapter was something I saw once in another fic weeks ago and loved, but I can't remember where and can't seem to find it again, so I don't know who to credit, sorry! :( If the creator/coiner of that phrase is reading this, let me know and I'll gladly add you to the credits!**

**A week's worth of guest review replies:**

_**Bookybookworm**_**: Ooh, yay, well if I ever finish my novel and we're both still on this site, then I'll certainly let you know so you can go read it ;) I'm glad you liked Leon's POV. Oh my goodness, first two weeks of DW were so good! :D I didn't understand the Missy/heaven bit, but I'm sure they'll explain it eventually ;) Don't worry, you didn't miss anything while you were away from the interwebs ;)**

_**Nance**_**: Thanks for your patience/well wishes! :) I'm glad you liked ch 55 so much and I hope ch 56 meets with your approval as well :) There will be so much pomp at the coronation (in ch 57 or 58…)! Incidentally, since I couldn't type all week, I filled some of that extra time by daydreaming about and gathering ideas on Pinterest for awesome coronation garb for Morgana ;) I have a bit of an addiction to medieval/Renaissance gowns and finery… ;)**

_**Guest 1**_**: Thanks for the placard history lesson! That's so cool! :) I guess my placard reference was several hundred years ahead of its time…but it's less out of place than calling it a sandwich-board, I suppose ;) Thanks for reviewing!**

_**Guest 2**_**: Thanks for reviewing! Yes, I agree, there needs to be more Gaius ;) I'm going to work on it—keep an eye out for increasingly more Gaius over the next several chapters set in Camelot…**

_**Fan1**_**: I'm so pleased you're enjoying it! Yeah, they're fun to write :) Thanks for reading and reviewing! :D**

_**ShanyaMahi**_**: Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! I'm honored you want to spend your limited free time reading my writing! :D I like Ambrosius too—he's going to be fine for the foreseeable future at least ;) Thanks for your encouraging review, one writer to another! :) I have no intention of stopping—I'm having far too much fun writing this, and I hope y'all continue to enjoy reading it as well! :)**


	57. Chapter 57: Insomnia

**A/N: Hello! Sorry I made y'all wait so long for this chapter—hope it is worth the wait!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin (the BBC evidently skipped the lesson in kindergarten about sharing…)**

**Credits: The lovely cover art is by the very talented AlexandarCho and is used with her permission. Check out the original piece (titled "So you wanna play with magic?") and her other work in her gallery on DeviantArt! :)**

**On with the fic!**

Chapter 57: Insomnia

Merlin sighed happily as he climbed into bed in his new, private quarters, blew out the candle, and stared up at the low ceiling in the dark. He was exhausted from all the magic he'd used that afternoon repairing and conjuring furnishings with his father, but he couldn't fall asleep yet. Too many thoughts swirled in his mind-though for a change, they were almost entirely good.

He allowed his mind to play through the afternoon again slowly. He and Balinor had prepared two rooms on the floor above Gwaine and Arthur's rooms. Neither room had sustained any structural damage during the Purge, but the furniture had been rent practically to splinters. Balinor had used the opportunity to explain a particularly useful spell for reversing shatter patterns and similar destruction.

"_The only tricky bit," his father had said, "Is that it requires an incredibly focused mind-the type of discipline only the likes of the Catha can usually attain. I've heard of this spell but never mastered it myself."_

_Merlin had snorted. "And you think I'd be able to if you couldn't?"_

He had only known his father for a few short days, but already he hung on his every word. _I can learn so much from him! _he thought contentedly as he pulled the blankets up against the autumn night's chill.

_Balinor had smiled and replied, "But I'm not Emrys."_

"_Maybe not," Merlin had said, scuffing a toe in the dust and splintered fragments of wood, "But it doesn't mean every spell comes easily to me. Took me an entire night to master the first animation spell I learned."_

_His father had smiled. "Only one night?"_

_Merlin had shrugged. _

"_I'll give it a try, I guess."_

"_The spell is '__Onhwierfaþ þá tócwæscednessa, edlæceaþ þá ansíen'__; now, I've heard that-"_

_But Merlin had been concentrating on learning the complicated words of the spell and had already begun repeating it. As soon as the words had left his mouth, a shimmering outline of the splintered canopy bed had appeared in front of them, like stars coming out at dusk. The dust and splinters on the floor had begun to vibrate, resonating with the incredible amount of power bursting out of Merlin. Like a swarm of locust, they had flown upward from the ground and flung themselves into alignment. Only when the last piece had securely settled in place had the shimmer faded, even as the golden glow had died in Merlin's eyes like the last embers of a fire._

_Balinor had whistled softly and Merlin had looked over at him._

"_Sorry, what were you about to say?"_

"_Just that I'd heard that sheer power could compensate for concentration...looks like they were right." Balinor had looked him over in concern. "How do you feel? Do you need to sit down?"_

"_Um, fine?" Merlin had replied quickly, "I'm fine, really."_

_Balinor had just shaken his head. _

"_You are like nothing I've ever seen before."_

_Merlin had blushed and fidgeted uncomfortably. Balinor had quickly moved on._

"_Up for doing that again? We've got quite a bit left to do…"_

"_Sure, Father," Merlin had grinned._

They'd tackled each piece of furniture, with Balinor doing the smaller and more intricate detail repairs and Merlin doing the power-intensive spells. Merlin chuckled as he remembered what happened next. The third room they had chosen was a badly damaged room next door to Gwaine's. It required extensive structural repair as well as furnishing restoration.

_Just as Merlin had been focusing intently on a broken window frame on the far side of the room, Arthur had burst in through the door behind him. Concentration broken, Merlin's eyes had stopped glowing as he and Balinor had both spun to face the prince. Arthur had looked across the room at the window frame where cracks in the plaster had still been diligently sealing themselves shut. He had looked from Balinor to the window, back to Balinor, to Merlin, then back to the window._

_After a moment, he had blinked several times, cleared his throat, then addressed Balinor as if nothing unusual had happened._

"_Emrys, I was wondering if you had some extra maces? I'd like to get in a bit of training before Elyan arrives later."_

Merlin remembered how he'd been too terrified to speak-he honestly thought Arthur had known that he was the one doing the magic. But apparently the prince had been oblivious. _As usual_,Merlin grinned to himself in the dark as he lay in bed. Having Balinor as a cover story for all things magical was really handy. His father had told Arthur where to find the maces and Arthur had turned to leave. He'd paused and turned back with one last question.

_"Have either of you seen Gwaine? I can't find him_."

Merlin had finally recovered his wits and managed to field that question with a grin.

_"Have you tried the root cellar? That's where Balinor keeps the apples."_

Arthur had left without further comment and Merlin's heart rate eventually returned to normal. Last but not least, Balinor had led him to this room, two floors below the throne room, next door to the spacious chamber that Gwaine had pulled him into for their little chat the other day.

_"I know it doesn't look like much," Balinor had explained when they'd first opened the door. The room itself was in excellent repair, but it was extremely reminiscent of Merlin's room in Gaius' chambers back in Camelot. It was clearly servants' quarters or perhaps even a converted storage closet._

Merlin had just shrugged; he'd been too happy about having his own space to care what it looked like. But Balinor had followed his disclaimer with something very cryptic.

_"I don't have time now, since I need to corral the wyverns before the men arrive, but soon I'll show you why I chose this room for you."_

_With a twinkle in his eye, Balinor had added, "I think you'll like the surprise."_

Merlin mulled over what his father meant, tucking his hands behind his head and smiling lazily, truly enjoying his new-and most importantly-_private_ accommodations. It didn't matter to him if it held hidden secrets or not. It was just nice to not listen to Gwaine muttering about food or worry that Arthur would overhear him practicing new spells. And the fact that this bed was remarkably comfortable despite its appearance was an added bonus. Still smiling, Merlin dropped off into a pleasant sleep, untroubled by dreams of Freya and vengeful fire for the first time since her death.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Four floors up, Arthur was having trouble sleeping. He tossed and turned, not because he was uncomfortable, but because his mind was racing faster than his best warhorse. It had been an incredibly uncomfortable day.

It was bad enough that he had to face Elyan, knowing that the man had been willing to sacrifice himself to save Arthur even though he barely knew him and had been subsequently imprisoned by Arthur's father for his efforts.

_But no, _Arthur thought, _There had to be more._

Elyan had-vindicating Merlin's apparently extremely keen eyesight-brought with him two companions. And one of them just _had_ to be Lancelot.

_Of all the men in the realm, why Lancelot?_

He had struggled to suppress his jealousy as the new arrivals shared their tale over a festive meal, particularly when Lancelot explained that he'd returned to Camelot expressly to look out for Guinevere.

_Would she really choose him over me?_ he wondered as he stared up at the bed's canopy. _She sort of did, once before_, he remembered, a pang of regret shooting through his heart.

_But that was before things really started to develop between us. So maybe now her choice would be different?_

The interwoven patterns on the fabric above him reflected the tangle of his thoughts and emotions.

_Stupid feelings_, he sighed. _Try not to think about it tonight._

But as soon as he'd tried to put that subject out of his mind, an equally alarming one cropped up in its place. He couldn't stop replaying this scene in his mind from that afternoon, when he'd interrupted Balinor repairing a window frame magically. Merlin had been there, apparently helping prepare the rooms like he'd told Arthur he was going to do. But the weirdest part was that Arthur had a sinking suspicion that Merlin's startled expression was a response to Arthur's reaction, rather than to the magic itself. He shook his head, trying to clear it. Merlin seemed to have taken to the whole magic-as-an-everyday-occurrence thing far more easily that he was.

_I don't know if I'll ever get used to seeing magic used casually_, he thought in frustration. _Then again, maybe I don't want to. _

Snippets of his father's lectures on the evils of magic surfaced in his mind, even as the Guinevere-voice in his head offered logical counter-arguments.

Arthur sighed and rolled over again, burying his head under his pillow. _I wonder what Sir Leon would do about all this magic and such_, he thought. _When it comes to duty and loyalty, Sir Leon always seems to know exactly what to do._

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Sir Leon, at that precise moment, did not know what to do. Four days' ride south, he lay in his chambers in Camelot, but his thoughts ranged far and wide, from the throne room of Camelot to the Perilous Lands. He usually didn't have trouble sleeping, he mused as he propped himself up on his elbow and punched his pillow to fluff it.

_Maybe that will help_, he thought, lying down on his pillow again.

But he knew it wouldn't. For the first time in as long as he could remember, his loyalties were being well and truly tested. First Elyan and Gwen, now Uther and Arthur.

_Throw Morgana's regency into the mix, and I'm in a real pickle_, he thought ruefully.

With a sigh, he threw off the covers and climbed out of bed. Grabbing a dark red woolen dressing gown, he shrugged it on over his untucked sleep shirt and trousers and began pacing the room. The fabric belt hung unnoticed from one belt loop, dragging on the floor behind him as he paced.

_You're never going to get to sleep until you sort this out_, he coached himself, _So start with the facts and work from there._

First fact: he had sworn fealty to the King when he became a Knight of Camelot.

_So my official duty is to Uther. So far, very clear and straightforward._

Fact two: he had trained with and served under Arthur. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Arthur-though young and still with much to learn-would one day make a far better king than his father was. But Arthur, too, had been a paragon of duty and loyalty, totally devoted to serving his king and father, so this knowledge had never been in conflict with Leon's oath.

_Until now, that is. How, for the love of Camelot, did it all go so wrong?_

He had genuinely struggled to believe that Arthur was capable of such a serious betrayal. _Aredian_, he admitted to grudgingly to himself, _gives me the creeps._

But did that inherently mean the witchfinder was wrong about Arthur?

_Maybe._

Leon laced both hands through his hair, transforming his curls a wild, disheveled mess.

_Or maybe not_.

He sighed and crossed to the sideboard. Pouring himself a cup of water, he leaned back against the sideboard to resume his logical reasoning.

_Fact three_, he thought,_ Arthur is either falsely accused or he switched his loyalties. And if the Arthur I know isn't a façade, he wouldn't do that lightly._

That made things even more complicated. He needed to find out whether Arthur's supposed collusion with Emrys was fact or fiction.

_But how am I going to do that?_

Leon drained the cup and set it back on the sideboard. He set off pacing again, still ignoring the belt dragging on the ground, until it was too late. He tripped over it and, in his stocking feet, couldn't get any traction on the smooth stone floor. He fell headlong, only managing to fling his arms up at the last second to protect his face from slamming into the paving stones.

"Ughh," he groaned, rolling over and getting up slowly. He glared at the offending belt and pulled off the robe in frustration, dropping it on the foot of the bed. He sat down on the bed and rubbed his arm where it had taken the brunt of the impact.

_I'm so distracted I'm turning into Merlin, falling like that—_

Suddenly he sat up straighter.

_Maybe there _is_ a way to find out where Arthur's loyalties lie. Merlin would know; he's closer to Arthur than anyone._

But Merlin wasn't here, he remembered belatedly. He let out another sigh and flopped back into bed.

_But you could talk to Gwen_, he suddenly thought, catching himself by surprise. _Gwen is close to Merlin and-be honest-you trust her judgment. Maybe she'll know something useful._

That settled it. He would try—somehow—between his duties, the coronation, and the feast, to squeeze in a private word with Gwen tomorrow. It wasn't a solution, but it was a start. He dropped off into an exhausted sleep moments later.

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed it and that it was worth the several-day-wait for this chapter. I'll try to have chapter 58 up quickly! Hopefully in the next 48 hours…**

**Oh! By the way: the spell in this chapter translates roughly as "Reverse the shattering, renew the form."**

**Guest review replies:**

_**Athos**_**: Wow, thanks for that incredible compliment! I really appreciate it! I hope you enjoyed ch 57 :)**

_**Guest #1**_**: So glad you liked the father/son bonding! I think just three—Elyan, Lancelot, and Percival… Thanks for reviewing!**

_**Bookybookworm**_**: So pleased you liked ch 56! Don't know how soon I'll finish my novel, but I'll let you know if it turns out to be soon ;) And now I'm jealous that you've been to Sherwood Forest! ;) I enjoyed the episode, though it sorta jumped the shark and turned very, very silly. But it was great fun nonetheless ;)**

_**Nance**_**: I'm so pleased you feel like I'm getting Merlin's character right! :) Yes, Merlin never passes up a good chance to tease Arthur—especially not when it's the easiest way to cover for his magic! It was intended as an allusion to Merlin's ability to "see the path ahead"—so there's not actually anything wrong with Arthur's vision ;) I hope you enjoyed the falconry-lessons in today's chapter! :D Thanks for your suggestions—they inspired the shatter-repairing spell. ;) I'm planning to cover the coronation in the next update! :) Thanks so much for reviewing and for your encouraging compliments!**

_**Quill**_**: Your guest-name is fantastic; I love it! Thanks for reviewing so consistently! I'm so grateful and flattered that you've taken the time to read AND reread this fic! :D! Seventeen was an attempt at humor (funnier than just saying "a lot," I hoped) and it sort of seemed like what might happen if you got Merlin on a roll…once he starts talking, he tends not to stop… ;) Hmm, things like Gwen's fav color (lavender), silly anecdotes about her childhood with Elyan (fighting with little wooden swords and pretending to be Knights of Camelot), and that she is one of the best seamstresses in Camelot but she never embroiders her fav flower (peony) because she doesn't believe she can do them justice. Stuff like that ;) I agree about googling peculiar stuff—no disrespect taken ;) I'm so pleased you liked Balinor=Fisher King even better than the canon version. I had a ton of fun fleshing out that backstory, so I'm pleased you enjoyed it as well! Yeah, in keeping with the strange-internet-research theme, I did google medieval makeup and was aware of kohl. But I figured it was simpler—especially since it was just in Gwen's thoughts instead of narration—to generically call it eyeliner since that was its function and since most readers might not know what kohl was. ;) Plus, it seemed somehow in keeping with the whole canon-joke of Morgana turning evil and suddenly wearing a lot of black eyeliner ;) Thanks for pointing that out, though! I like learning new things and having the chance to fix errors :) I'm pleased you're enjoying the falconry excuse…and yes, I'll try to include training sessions and lots of banter, now that everyone's reached the tower and the plot will really get moving now. ;) Thanks for all your reviews!**


	58. Chapter 58: Queen of Hearts (Part 1)

**A/N: I'm sorry this is behind schedule! :/ Thanks for your patience! Hope y'all enjoy it. :) Milestones to celebrate, btw: This fic has passed 100,000 views, 70,000 words, 750 reviews, 350 followers, and 200 favs! How crazy! I feel very honored that so many people are reading, enjoying, and participating in this project with me :) Thank you all!**

**Disclaimer/credit: I don't own **_**Merlin**_**…that privilege belongs to the BBC. Speaking of things that I don't own, the gorgeous cover art is by the very talented AlexandarCho (used with permission). Check out the original and her other work on her gallery page on DeviantArt! :)**

**On with the fic!**

Chapter 58: Queen of Diamonds, Queen of Hearts (Part 1)

Gwen hadn't had a moment to herself all morning. She had a list of tasks longer than her arm, and on top of that suddenly everyone, it seemed, needed to speak with her. As the personal maidservant to the soon-to-be-crowned Princess Morgana, she suddenly found herself answering questions right and left as she passed through the kitchens, the corridors, and the servants' hall.

"Does the Princess Morgana prefer venison or chicken for the feast?"

"Would the Princess Morgana prefer roses or lilies on the feast tables?"

"What time would the Princess Morgana like to have the final fitting of her gown?"

_Maybe this is what Arthur feels like every day_, she mused as she ducked into an empty alcove with her basket of linens, just for a moment's peace. _Everyone hanging on his every word...it's enough to drive a person batty._

She closed her eyes, leaned against the wall, and exhaled slowly and deeply. She'd been on her feet since before dawn, carrying out her normal chores early so she could spend extra time helping Morgana prepare for the coronation ceremony at sunset. _Just one more minute and then I'll go back to…_

"Oh, Gwen, thank goodness!" a recently-hired serving girl's voice cut into her reverie, "I've been looking for you everywhere!"

Gwen grudgingly opened her eyes and put on her kindest smile. _It's not the girl's fault, after all._

"Would the Princess Morgana prefer…?"

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Gaius!" Gwen exclaimed two hours later, throwing open the door to the physician's chambers while clutching a small fabric-tied bundle tightly.

Startled, the elderly man looked up in concern from the yellowed parchment he'd been studying.

"Gwen!" he said with a smile, "What can I do for you?"

"Can I hide here?"

Gaius' eyebrows rose in confusion.

"Hide?"

Gwen closed the door behind her and leaned her back against it, willing it to stay shut.

"I mean, it's just that, well, with everything that's on today, everyone has so many questions...and, well, I haven't had anything to eat since before dawn and I think if one more person asks me-"

"Of course you may," Gaius cut her off with an understanding nod. "You can join me. I confess I, too, haven't had lunch-I've been much too absorbed in these documents Morgana asked me to look over."

"Oh thank you!" Gwen gushed as she slid onto the bench across from the physician and unwrapped the cloth parcel she was carrying to reveal a few scraps of bread and cheese.

Gaius surveyed her meal and tutted at her in a fatherly way. "That's not enough, not when you've got to be at your best the rest of the day."

Before she could protest, Gaius got to his feet and retrieved a few slabs of salted pork from the cupboard as well a loaf of bread.

"We can't have you passing out during the coronation, now, can we?"

He was smiling but Gwen heard in his voice the practiced tone of a physician used to dealing with noncompliant patients. There would be no arguing with him on this point.

"Thank you," she said and added a slab of pork to her bread and cheese. _What would we do without him? He looks after all of us_.

Gaius made a steaming pot of tea to share before rejoining her at the table. They ate and drank in comfortable silence as Gaius resumed reading the documents and Gwen reveled in the silence.

After a few minutes, Gaius set aside the parchment and looked up at Gwen.

"Feeling better?"

"Yes," she grinned, "Thanks."

Gaius folded his hands in front of him and looked across at Gwen seriously.

"I take it you've realized things are changing for you as well as for Morgana."

Gwen nodded, then said slowly, "I figured things would be busier, but I had no idea."

"Well, that's not exactly—

She suddenly interrupted Gaius, wide-eyed, as a terrifying thought occurred to her.

"Is this what Merlin's job is like every day?"

He chuckled.

"Only on feast days."

Gwen slumped in relief.

"I don't think I could do this every single day."

"I'm sure you'd rise to the occasion, my dear. As I was about to say," Gaius mused, "Things have changed in more ways than that. You've become the second most important woman in Camelot now."

Gwen had not been expecting that.

"How do you mean?"

"Hmm," Gaius pursed his lips. "How do I explain this? Well," he drew out the word, "You know how everyone in the castle knows Merlin?"

Gwen nodded, chuckling.

"Now everyone will know you, too," Gaius informed her.

"But why?" She felt her cheeks flush.

"Because you have the ear of the Princess Regent," Gaius explained. "And especially after the situation with Hengist-"

Gwen felt a chill race up her spine at the memory.

"-The court knows how much she values you."

She furrowed her brows, thinking it over.

"So they'll think they can sway her if they can befriend me?"

"Exactly," the wise physician replied. "You are also in the unique position to be Morgana's eyes and ears, allowing her to go where she cannot and overhear information that might otherwise be kept from her. She will need your help."

Gwen sat quietly for several moments, letting that sink in. She'd never considered herself important; she'd always been grateful to be spared the expectations and intrigue of courtly life. _It seems, _she thought to herself, _between serving Morgana and loving Arthur, you've thrown yourself into the thick of it._ And suddenly, she had a brand-new appreciation for what both Arthur and Merlin dealt with on a daily basis.

Again, Gaius broke the silence. "It's a big adjustment for Morgana, too."

"I know," Gwen nodded absently.

"And you two must stick together. You are both capable of all that is being asked of you, and you don't have to do it alone." There was a twinkle in his eyes as he added, "And I'm confident that Arthur will be proud of both of you."

At the mention of _his_ name, Gwen pulled her thoughts back to the present moment. "Thank you," she said and sincerely meant it.

Gaius continued, "In the meantime, Kilgarrah, Emrys, and I will help you both. In fact, Morgana's visiting the Great Dragon as we speak."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Oh, Gwen, I'm so glad you're here!" Morgana exclaimed as Gwen pushed open the door to her chambers mid-afternoon, bearing a beautiful gown of deep blue silk. Gwen shut the door behind her with her foot and turned to face Morgana.

Morgana took one look at her friend's face and Gwen saw her swallow whatever she'd been about to say. Instead, she blurted, "Gwen? Are you all right? You look exhausted!"

The princess-to-be crossed the room and took the dress carefully from Gwen's arms and draped it across the bed, then led her friend to the chairs by the fire.

"Sit and tell me what's wrong," she ordered gently.

Gwen smiled. _Oh, Morgana-she has such a good heart._

"I just spoke with Gaius…"

She knew her wide eyes must speak volumes because Morgana nodded.

"And I just spoke with Kilgarrah. Things are changing, Gwen, for _both_ of us."

"Seems Gaius and Kilgarrah have been talking to one another?" Gwen guessed with a slight smile.

Morgana nodded seriously.

"And I promise that there's no one I'd rather have at my side through all of this than you."

Gwen blushed and looked away.

"Gwen, look at me, please. I mean it, really."

Gwen looked back at Morgana and couldn't resist a quick teasing smile.

"More than _Merlin_?"

It was Morgana's turn to blush. "Stop it-that's not fair!" she cried in mock exasperation.

Gwen giggled, but soon both women grew serious again.

"I know, Morgana, and I'm grateful. I'm honored to serve you, and-as Gaius said-to be your eyes and ears."

Morgana sighed. "I'm going to need it. Kilgarrah said he's foreseen turbulence during my regency. He said the fate of Camelot rests on both our shoulders."

Gwen shot her a questioning look.

"He claims he can't say more, save that our loyalties will be tested and will define the future rise or fall of Camelot."

Gwen let out a low whistle. _How did we end up here?_

"And…" Morgana began, uncertainly, "Well, I'm sure today is hard for both of us because we both wish Arthur were here instead."

Gwen nodded quickly, just once, and Morgana returned the gesture. They sat in silence for a quick moment, thinking about their beloved and brother, respectively.

After a moment, Gwen's practical streak surfaced with a vengeance as she glanced at the low-burning candle-clock on Morgana's dressing table.

"Look at the time! Milady, you must dress!"

**A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this! I ended up splitting this sequence in Camelot into two parts, so the actually coronation will be in ch 59. On the bright side, I've got most of ch 59 written already, as a result! ;) In the meantime, I'd love to hear feedback about what y'all think is working well and what you'd like to see more of, character-development-wise in the coming chapters. :) I'll try to use that info to choose POVs for the plot elements I've already got planned and to choose between any additional subplots when needed. Thanks!**

**Guest review replies:**

_**Lesley**_**: So pleased you enjoyed ch 57! Thanks for reviewing!**

_**Nance**_**: I'm so pleased you enjoyed the magic and Leon's screen time :) You'll find out what Balinor's got up his sleeve probably in ch 60 ;) Gwaine in trouble? Haha, no more than usual ;)**

_**Athos**_**: Some Morgana today, just for you ;) Thanks for reviewing!**

_**Quill**_**: Thanks for the rec—I'll look it up! I think you'll like Balinor's surprise ;) I'm glad you liked that transition :) Hmm, I wasn't sure, so I looked it up. Apparently yes (pickling's apparently been a thing since like 2400 BC) and as early as Shakespeare the phrase to be "in a pickle" was used/understood (in **_**Hamlet**_**, apparently). So pickles existed but that phrase may have been a bit ahead of its time ;) Good question, thanks!**


	59. Chapter 59: Queen of Diamonds (Part 2)

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews, favs, and follows! :) Hearing from y'all is always encouraging :)**

**Disclaimers/credits: I **_**still**_** don't own **_**Merlin**_**. And the lovely cover art is by AlexandarCho over on deviantART (used with her permission). Check out the original on her profile at deviantART!**

**Today's chapter: In which there is lots of pomp and circumstance and Gwen's day gets a whole lot stranger…**

**On with the fic! **

Chapter 59: Queen of Diamonds, Queen of Hearts (Part 2)

Just as the sun set, the assembly waited with baited breath as King Uther in all his finery took his place on the dais in front of the thrones. Only two thrones remained on the dais, Gwen noticed sadly. Uther had ordered Arthur's throne removed after the news arrived that Arthur had headed for the Perilous Lands. _He's given up that last bit of hope he must have been holding onto_, she realized with a start.

Gwen stood off to the side with the rest of the royal household staff. Two maids to her right were twittering quietly behind their hands as a row of handsome knights, lead by Sir Leon, filed in and took their places in the front rows of the assembled crowd.

_None of them can hold a candle to Arthur_, Gwen thought wistfully.

This entire day had been especially hard for Gwen—and not just because of the chaos and questions. In the pit of her stomach was a constant knot reminding her that, until recently, Arthur would have been designated Regent in his father's absence. As much as she loved Morgana like a sister and was proud of her for taking up the Regency to protect Camelot in Arthur's absence, it was nonetheless a reminder of that absence. She was grateful that Morgana felt the same and had had the courage to share that with her. It didn't make the ache go away, but it did make it easier knowing it was shared.

She missed him every day, even though she didn't admit it to anyone save Morgana and Gaius-and even then, only when they brought it up first.

_Be strong, not just for Morgana, but for Arthur and for Camelot_, she thought to herself, straightening her shoulders.

The trumpet fanfare drew her out of her reverie as a hush fell over the murmuring crowd. The double doors at the back of the great hall opened with a flourish and Morgana entered.

Even though Gwen had helped Morgana get ready, she stood slaw-jawed with the rest of the crowd. Her friend looked absolutely divine. _Princess Morgana, indeed_, Gwen thought with a proud smile.

Morgana glowed in her deep blue silk gown. She had insisted to Mistress Taylor, the royal seamstress, on a gown quite different from her usual feast attire. Gwen knew that Morgana liked to flout convention with her borderline scandalous fashion choices. It was her way of asserting her feminine, courtly power over the men who controlled nearly every detail of her life. Gwen was confident, though, that it was a facade, even if Morgana had never quite admitted it. She knew her friend was not the type to throw herself at men, nor did she actually want their intentions in that way. She simply wanted freedom and some semblance of control in her life.

But on this occasion, Morgana had wisely realized that a seductive fashion statement might not be the best way to win loyalty and confidence from her father's courtiers and knights. She had come to Gwen for advice about what the people thought about her and how to project the image she wanted: serious, collected, and worthy of their fealty. Armed with Gwen's input, Morgana had stood her ground until Mistress Taylor had agreed to her very specific requests.

As Gwen, an experienced seamstress herself, looked over Morgana's gown with a practiced eye, she knew that Mistress Taylor likely stayed up all night to finish it. Seeing Morgana gliding down the center of the hall between the rows of courtiers and knights, though, Gwen was confident Morgana had achieved the effect she wanted.

Rich but understated, the silken gown boasted a simple silhouette with a pleated skirt and flared sleeves, unembellished save for a thin band of intricate silver embroidery just above each elbow and another narrow edge of silver embroidery bordering the square neckline. It was encrusted at intervals with small, glittering diamonds, which reflected fiery red and blue sparks in the flickering candlelit hall. The pleated overskirt split in the middle, revealing an underskirt of embroidered silver silk damask as Morgana walked gracefully to stand before her father. She wore only four tasteful pieces of jewelry, each bearing symbolic significance to her: a signet ring of Camelot, a simple gold ring Arthur had given her on her sixteenth birthday (that had once belonged to Queen Ygraine), a plain silver band of Gwen's (borrowed for this occasion), and diamond chandelier earrings that had belonged to Morgana's mother-a subtle tribute, Gwen was sure, to the House of Gorlois.

When she reached the dais, Morgana knelt upon the cushion on the steps and listened intently as Uther asked the required questions, exactly as he had a little over a year before when Arthur had come of age.

"Do you solemnly swear to govern the people of this kingdom and its dominions according to the statutes, customs, and laws laid down by your forebears?"

"I do, Sire," Morgana replied, as her brother had before her.

Uther continued, "Do you promise to exercise mercy and justice in your deeds and judgments?"

"I do, Sire."

"And do you swear allegiance to Camelot, now and for as long as you shall live?"

"I, Morgana Pendragon, do pledge life and limb to your service and to the protection of the kingdom and _all_ its peoples."

Gwen caught the added word and bit her lip to hide the smirk that tugged at the corners of her mouth. _Morgana, you just couldn't resist the jab, could you?_

If Uther had noticed, he didn't show it. He smiled broadly as he announced, "Now being of age and heir apparent, from henceforth, you shall be Crown Princess of Camelot, and shall take up the mantle of Princess Regent in my absence."

He placed an ancient diamond-encrusted tiara upon her coifed tresses and offered his hand to her. She took it and rose gracefully, stepping up to stand next to him and face the people she was about to govern. Gwen recognized her expression-she was deathly serious about the responsibility she was accepting.

Uther continued, "Though the time of war is nearly upon us, tonight it is fitting that we feast, in honor of the Princess Morgana!"

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"More wine, fair maid, _now_!" the voice of an apparently somewhat sloshed Knight of Camelot slurred to Gwen as she passed by on her way to the head table with a newly refilled pitcher of wine.

Masking her discomfort as his fellow knights wolf-whistled, she slowly turned from her path to comply with his request. After all, it was her job to obey the noble guests, even if she intensely disliked being ogled. _At least that's all they do. Could be so much worse._

She was startled from her train of thought when she realized the knight who had called her was Sir Leon.

_I don't believe I've ever seen him this drunk_, she thought, carefully preventing her surprise and indignation from showing on her gentle features. _And he's _never _ordered me around like that before_.

"Yes, milord," she replied deferentially as she moved to fill his extended goblet.

But before she could do so, Leon did something shockingly out of character. He grabbed her wrist and jerked her so she lost her balance and landed squarely on his lap.

_How bloody much has he had to drink? _Gwen thought in disgust, trying to extricate herself from his firm grasp.

But before she could form a proper protest, Leon leaned close and whispered in her ear, his words masked from eavesdroppers by the raucous cheers of the other inebriated knights.

"Forgive me for this, Gwen-I needed to speak to you without risking suspicion."

His words were no longer slurred at all and his firm grasp on her wrist relaxed significantly, though a casual observer wouldn't have seen the slight difference.

"Nod once if you understand, please," he continued quickly.

Gwen, wide-eyed, did as he asked.

"I need to speak with you privately-it's about Arthur."

Her heartbeat quickened-but this time not from the shock of Leon's actions.

Keeping up his pretense as his fellow knights resumed ogling the other serving girls, Leon held up his mug with an intentionally unfocused expression and Gwen refilled it, supplying her own affected expression of disapproval.

Leon leaned in one last time, pretending to stroke her soft curls as he did so.

"Will you meet me in the corridor outside Gaius' chambers after the feast ends? I promise I mean you no harm."

Another subtle nod was all Gwen could manage. _Just when I thought my day couldn't get any stranger…_

Just before he leaned back in his chair, Leon whispered a final suggestion: "I'd recommend you make a fuss and leave now-I wouldn't want your honor tainted by this conversation."

_Yes, thoughtful as always_,Gwen thought as she hid a smirk and enthusiastically complied. She dramatically jerked her arm out of his light grasp with more force than necessary, leapt to her feet, and slapped him soundly with the back of her free hand. She then flounced away toward Morgana's table, allowing the pitcher to slosh slightly as she fled. No one saw the twinkle in her eyes as she heard the other knights behind her attempting to drunkenly console a supposedly shocked and rebuffed Sir Leon.

She approached Morgana calmly and refilled her goblet over the princess' right shoulder.

Morgana glanced up with a forced smile and an acknowledging nod, hissing quietly through gritted teeth so the king wouldn't hear, "What was that all about? I swear, I'll have him thrown in the stocks-"

Gwen cut her off with a sharp shake of her head. Her words excused her actions in case the king was listening.

"It's alright, milady. He meant no harm."

She knew Morgana would understand the hidden meaning: _I'll tell you later-things aren't what they seem._

**A/N: What'd you think? In case anyone's interested, I've posted a pencil drawing to deviantART (username: VikingSong) of Morgana in her coronation attire as described above. I'd love to know what you think of it! ;) I'm hopelessly addicted to gorgeous historical gowns…I sometimes wish I could wear cotehardies, kirtles, and surcoates daily—they're just so pretty! ;) [/end geeky tangent]**

**Guest review replies:**

_**Nance**_**: Yes, Morgana is the Queen of Diamonds of the title. I wanted to play off of the canon association of Gwen and the Queen of Hearts title but include both women, since they're both destined in this fic to rule but at different times and in different ways. But the full title was too long to fit in the chapter headings textbox, so I decided to use the limited space to emphasize Gwen in Part 1 and Morgana in Part 2. Oh! I'd gotten sidetracked about the messages (due to time off b/c of wrists)—thanks for the reminder that I still needed to cover that on paper and not just in my head, haha ;) I'll also see if I can work in Geoffrey and the Cook eventually. I'm so glad to hear you're enjoying this. And that is a very cute picture for Ambrosius ;)**

_**Quill**_**: Gwen is supposed to be Queen of Hearts (allusion to canon episode title but not the plot) and Morgana is the Queen of Diamonds. Like I mentioned to **_**Nance**_** above, it's a comparing/contrasting of their destinies—both will rule but in different ways and at different times. I enjoyed your musings on pickled stuff ;) Yeah, anachronistic food seemed to crop up a lot ;) But I think the pickled stuff may have been legit ;) Thanks for taking the time to comment so regularly!**

_**Guest #1**_**: Hehe, yep! Hmm, I don't think Merlin got any extra help when Arthur became Regent in canon, so Gwen's unlikely to get help now, especially since Morgana and Gwen are trying to keep some pretty serious secrets. ;) But it was a good suggestion :) Thanks for reviewing!**

_**Guest #2**_**: Thank you so much for your kind words! :) I'm so glad you feel like the characterizations are working! :) Thanks for writing a review!**

_**Guest #3**_**: Ooh, I love trivia AND Shakespeare! Thanks! :D**

_**Guest #4**_**: Yeah, poor Gwen! ;) I'm glad you like how Gaius is taking care of everyone! ;) Thanks for leaving a review!**


	60. Chapter 60: An Unconventional Tryst

**A/N: Sincere apologies for making y'all wait a couple days for ch 60—couldn't quite get it right, even though I worked on it each day. So here it is, finally! ;) Hope you like it! It's longer than my chapters normally are, so hopefully that helps make up for it? Thanks for all the reviews, favs, and follows in the meantime! We're well past 800 reviews on this project now…thank you so much!**

**Disclaimer: Still don't own **_**Merlin**_**. (Sigh.) And the great cover art is by AlexandarCho, used with permission. Check out the original and her other art on deviantART. :)**

**On with the fic!**

Chapter 60: An Unconventional Tryst

Gaius had retired early from the evening's festivities, citing his age and the need to brew a large batch of hangover potions in anticipation of the next morning's demand for them. Back in his chambers, he absently set up the memorized ingredients to steep, his mind already focusing on the next task-the real reason he had bowed out early.

His brow furrowed as his hands worked on their own while his mind mulled over the documents that Morgana had covertly asked him to review. They were assorted legal texts concerning the official laws against magic. She had come to him, deeply conflicted, about an hour before Gwen had sought refuge in his chambers. As the hours slipped by and the coronation neared, Morgana explained she had grown increasingly concerned about how she could possibly swear to uphold the laws if the laws were unjust. She'd dumped a pile of scrolls in front of Gaius and implored him to examine them. She said she desperately wanted to know if there were loopholes or ways to protect magical subjects without raising the suspicions of anyone loyal to Uther's views. He'd promised he'd look into it and suggested she visit Kilgarrah in the meantime. Between Gwen's visit and the coronation, as well as still mulling over the two messages he'd received from Merlin and Balinor the day before, he hadn't had nearly enough time to examine the technicalities of the laws in question. Worse, what he had studied didn't offer any clear solutions.

He sighed as he strained out the potion ingredients and poured the remaining solution into a large glass container suspended over an open flame.

_Now then, where did I put those documents?_ he mused. _Ah, yes, in the satchel by the door._

He crossed the room purposefully, the only sounds around him the soothing bubbling of the hangover potion and the quiet padding of his footsteps. As he reached the door and removed the scrolls, another sound suddenly caught his attention.

_Voices_. Gaius was confused. _In the hall, at this hour?_

He shuffled away from the door and started packing his medicine bag just in case.

_Perhaps someone's coming about a medical emergency?_

If the voices continued in the hall, he was just far enough away that he couldn't hear them.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Gwen," Leon greeted her in a low, relief-laced voice as she slipped quietly into the darkened corridor. "I was beginning to worry you weren't coming."

The tall knight stepped out from where he'd been waiting in a shadowed alcove, his caped-and-armored silhouette thoroughly intimidating in the dark. The only sources of light were the moonlight filtering in through a narrow window behind the knight and the faint candlelit glow fanning out under Gaius' door, several paces behind her. Gwen unconsciously took a small step back.

_I almost didn't_, she admitted to herself.

"It takes the servants a long time to clear up a feast like that," she hedged.

_But you mentioned Arthur, so I couldn't stay away._

"Of course, I should have thought of that," Leon admitted awkwardly. "I apologize for keeping you up later when I know you've had a busy day."

The discomfort in his voice actually served to ease Gwen's worries.

_He's embarrassed...this is awkward for both of us_.

Looking less intimidating by the second, he stepped forward and spread his hands apologetically.

"I want you to know that I kept trying to find a chance to speak to you privately all day, but there was never a moment when you weren't surrounded by people."

Understanding dawned slowly. She thought aloud, "So you needed a way to arrange a meeting in front of a crowd without giving anything away?"

Leon nodded stiffly. Even in the dark hall, she could see his flaming blush. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it thoroughly mussed.

"Um, yes...uh, sorry about all of that."

Gwen cracked a wry smile. "I can't say it was ideal...but I have to admit it was creative."

Leon shifted uncomfortably even as he tried to return her amused smile. Gwen felt at ease now-their lighthearted childhood camaraderie was back. Happy memories of teasing Leon until his ears turned Camelot red flitted across her memory as Leon cleared his throat and spoke again.

"I confess I don't know how to begin," Leon admitted.

"Yet you were so very forward earlier, Sir Knight," Gwen continued teasing, mimicking the simpering tone of the court ladies who fawned over the eligible knights.

Another blush, but this time Leon recovered his composure quickly.

"I need to ask for, well, a mixture of information...and advice."

"What could you possibly need my advice for?" Gwen asked, dropping the act, her eyes widening in surprise.

"It concerns Arthur, and, well…you—"

The wording caught her off guard.

_But I thought no one else knew about us!_

Before she could stop herself, she cut him off, blurting out, "How do you know?"

It was Leon's turn to be caught off guard.

"Know what?"

"But you just said..._Arthur and I_...but I thought no one knew…"

"Oh," Leon said. "_Oh_."

She could almost see the wheels of his mind turning, working it out.

_He hadn't known, but you just gave it away. Great work, Gwen, great work._

Gwen was still chastising herself when Leon finished putting the pieces together and said politely, with all the concern of a big brother, "I trust Arthur is treating you well and behaving like a gentleman?"

_I can not believe I'm having this conversation...and with _Leon_ of all people!_

"Yes, yes," Gwen cried in frustration, "But what were _you_ talking about before?"

"I was just about to say that you know Merlin and Merlin knows Arthur and so I hoped..."

Gwen was even more confused than before. "Hoped what?"

The words finally tumbled out of the usually reserved knight's mouth.

"I want to know the truth about Arthur's loyalties."

He hesitated only briefly before adding firmly but quietly, "And, though it borders on treason, I confess I am unsure of both Uther's soundness and Morgana's readiness to rule."

Gwen stared at him for a moment.

Leon added, shifting his weight from foot to foot, "And of course all of this is in the strictest confidence, Gwen."

"I understand," she replied automatically, her mind jumping ahead to the next question. "But why are you asking _me_ these things?"

"I thought you might be close enough to Merlin to know second-hand whether Arthur had changed his allegiance...though I suppose," he continued with a teasing smile of his own, "That you would know _first-hand_ about Arthur's loyalties. And you are closer to Morgana than anyone else."

"And you would trust the word of a servant?" Gwen asked cautiously, no longer in the mood to be teased.

_I'd hate to think this is some sort of trap...I've already given so much away…_

Leon stepped closer, placed his hands on her shoulders, and looked down into her eyes solemnly.

"You-and Elyan-were my oldest and closest friends. Though childhood is long gone and what happened between us is but water under the bridge, I know your character, Guinevere Leodegrance. I will trust anything you will tell me."

_Oh_.

She sucked in a deep breath, debating quickly what she should and shouldn't share.

"We should go into Gaius' chambers," she said at last, glancing up and down the dark hall. "We can talk freely there."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

When the knocking came, Gaius was almost expecting it. What he was not expecting was the two faces that greeted him when he opened the door.

"Gwen…and Sir Leon! What can I do for you, sir, at this hour?"

"Gaius," Gwen began, "Is Merlin's room available?"

"Yes...but why?"

He looked from one to the other as he stepped aside to let them in. Closing the door behind them, he asked pointedly, "What, may I ask, is going on?"

"Leon has questions for me...about Arthur," Gwen explained carefully.

"Gwen," Gaius cautioned, raising an eyebrow.

Sir Leon shot a questioning glance at Gwen, who nodded once. He turned to Gaius and said quietly, "I want to know the truth about Arthur's loyalties-not as the Captain of the Guard, but as a man who wants to do what is right."

Gaius raised an intrigued eyebrow as Leon continued.

"If the Arthur I knew is the _real_ Arthur, then such a change in his loyalties requires that I reexamine my own."

Gaius looked searchingly at the young man. The sincerity in his words was reflected in his earnest eyes as he met the physician's gaze unwaveringly.

"Very well, Sir Leon, then you shall have the truth."

The elderly physician gestured to the table and all three sat down. Leon cut to the chase.

"Is Arthur falsely accused?"

"Yes...and no," Gaius replied heavily.

"What?"

_Poor man_, Gaius thought. _This really will be confusing_.

Gwen picked up the explanation.

"Arthur is loyal to Camelot. He has never—would never—commit treason against her."

"But...?" Leon prompted.

Gaius continued, "The prophecy that Aredian spoke of is real...and it is already in motion."

"Wait," Leon said, "But if the prophecy's true, then Arthur's been consorting with a sorcerer? Because that _is _treason."

Gaius chuckled, "Not when the sorcerer in question is wholly devoted to Arthur and the protection of Camelot. How do you think Camelot's triumphed over so many magical threats in the past couple of years?"

Leon sat in shocked silence for several seconds, looking from Gaius to Gwen and back again. Gaius could tell the man was wrestling with his ingrained beliefs and the paradigm-altering news he'd just received. At last, the knight spoke, directing his question to Gwen.

"Let me get this straight: Arthur actually found a sorcerer who's _good_ and is defending Camelot?"

"Yes," she said simply.

_Wise girl_, Gaius thought approvingly. _Less is safer—only tell him exactly what he needs to know_.

"But I was raised to believe that magic is evil—that it corrupts all who use it," the knight said.

"Leon," Gwen began gently. "What is your sword made from?"

"Um, steel...but I don't see what that has to do—"

Gwen continued smoothly, "Yes, steel—my father forged it for you as a present when you were knighted."

Leon nodded at the late blacksmith's daughter, eyes still clouded with confusion.

"Steel is a mixture of metals, taken from the earth itself. They have no inherent moral value, save for what we make from them."

Gaius slowly realized where she was heading with this.

_Smart girl._

"Some steel is made into swords like yours, destined for violence, for use either by ruthless men to attack the innocent or by good men—like you and Arthur—to protect and defend. But it can also be beaten into plowshares, helping bring forth sustenance from the earth. Steel is equally adaptable to peace or to conflict-it all depends on whose hands it's in."

_If Arthur chooses her for his queen someday_, Gaius thought proudly, _He will not find a wiser or more kind-hearted woman in the five kingdoms._

Leon stared at her for a moment, as though trying to reconcile her logical argument with his king's decrees.

At last he said with a sigh, "I will think on that. But what of Morgana? Do you trust her to govern acceptably in Uther's absence?"

"I do, Sir Leon," Gaius replied gravely, "She is more than equal to the task—more than even Uther realizes, I believe."

Leon nodded once and stood stiffly, looking a bit dazed by the twists and turns the conversation had taken.

"I do not know what I think yet of the things you have told me, but you have my word that, regarding what has passed between us, I will be discretion itself. And now, I think I should retire for the night."

He glanced politely at Gaius, "By your leave."

Gaius nodded, pushing down the worry gnawing at his insides.

Leon turned to Gwen, formality replacing the earlier ease of their interactions.

"My lady, would you like me to escort you back to your home?"

"No, thank you-I'm just staying in Morgana's antechamber tonight."

"It's on my way," Leon offered his arm, ever the gentleman.

As he closed the door behind them, Gaius heard a terrible hissing sound. He spun round to see his potion boiling over.

"No!" he exclaimed, muttering a few colorful Latin phrases under his breath as he cleaned up the mess and started over.

_Between Morgana's scrolls, this rubbish potion, and worrying, it's going to be a long night._

**A/N: See that review button below? It's calling your name… ;) I hope y'all enjoyed this! Ch 61 should be posted tomorrow…I don't think it will give me nearly as much trouble as ch 60 did. :)**

**Guest review replies:**

_**Nance**_**: Thanks so much for reviewing! I'm so pleased you liked Leon's creativity ;) Yeah, I blame my scanner (or at least my lack of skill at manipulating its settings) for the faintness—the original drawing is darker/clearer/more smoothly blended but that was the best scan I could get. :/ Hehe, I'm glad you liked the symbolism! ;) I also already had her wear red and gold for the announcement the day before, so I felt like she needed something very different and very special for the coronation. Foreshadowing? Maybe… ;)**


	61. Chapter 61: Appearances Can Be Deceiving

**A/N: Hello everyone! Guess what? I FINALLY finished ch 61 tonight...got distracted early last week, so terribly sorry! Thanks for all the reviews, follows, and favs during my little posting hiatus! :D**

**By way of explanation/apology, I finally got around to starting to read The Hunger Games on Tuesday (waaaay behind the times, I know), proceeded to read the entire three-book series in about 72 hours, then had "book hangover" for a couple of days after that). Does "book hangover" happen to anyone else? Y'know, that thing where you read something really fast then have a hard time reengaging with reality or your own creative projects because your brain's busy catching up and processing all the plot elements and character developments and stuff you just read? **

**Anyway, yeah, so that basically ate up my writing time and occupied the literary part of my brain for the week. So tonight I sat down at my computer with a big mug of tea and my cat and refused to go to bed until ch 61 was posted... ;) Three mugs of tea later, it's posted and I'm going to sleep-hope y'all enjoy the chapter!**

**Just a dose of fluff to ease back into my frequent-update schedule…**

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Merlin**_** (*sigh*) nor the cover art. That belongs to AlexandarCho (used with permission). Check out the original and her other art over at deviantART!**

**On with the fic! ;)**

Chapter 61: Appearances Can Be Deceiving

Unaware of the previous day's political intrigue in Camelot, Merlin watched Arthur do what he did best—_Well, second only to being a prat, that is_. After giving them a day to rest, Arthur and Gwaine had arranged a training session with the new arrivals. Merlin leaned against a hitching rail in the courtyard next to a pile of weapons, savoring the mid-autumn afternoon sunlight on his face as he watched the prince spar with Percival. The other three stood across from Merlin, intently watching the sparring and calling out encouragement—or in Gwaine's case, taunts-at appropriate intervals.

"Excuse me," came a polite but powerful voice from behind Merlin.

Arthur stepped back and called a halt to the sparring as all eyes turned to face Balinor.

"Might I borrow Merlin for a bit? I could use some help preparing for supper, now that there are more mouths to feed."

Arthur wiped the sweat off his forehead with one hand and trudged over to Merlin. He handed him his sword and gestured toward a pair of maces.

"Give Balinor a hand," the prince said as Merlin hefted the requested weapons and handed them over. "And_ try _not to talk back, all right?"

"Me? Talk back?" Merlin said as innocently as he could.

Arthur just rolled his eyes dramatically and headed back toward the others, muttering something about the fortress' unfortunate lack of stocks.

As Merlin turned with a smirk to follow Balinor inside, he heard Arthur announce, "Lancelot, let's see how your mace work's fared since we last met."

_Uh oh_, Merlin thought. _I know that tone of voice_.

It meant Arthur was having an emotion, and a negative one at that.

_And when something's bothering him, he works through his emotions by training._ _I would know_, Merlin thought as he took the steps two at a time to catch up with Balinor.

Unfortunately, Merlin knew all too well from experience (his joints ached at the memories) that the person most directly related to whatever was bothering Arthur would bear the brunt of his emotional processing on the training field.

_And if that person isn't available, then I'm the next best thing._

Merlin felt a pang of sympathy for Lancelot that was strangely reminiscent of a bruised rib.

_Lancelot's going to have several of those before Arthur's through with him..._

Balinor paused unexpectedly two floors below the throne room, interrupting Merlin's train of thought. They stood just outside Merlin's cupboard-turned-bedroom door.

"Why are we stopping here?" Merlin asked. "I thought you said you wanted help cooking?"

"Well, I couldn't very well announce that I wanted you to join me for some falconry, now, could I?" Balinor said with a lopsided grin, pushing open the door to Merlin's room and waving him inside.

"Arthur probably wouldn't notice, but Gwaine would have insisted on coming along," Merlin replied, returning the grin.

Balinor closed the door behind them and turned to Merlin. It was pretty cramped with two of them standing there.

"I have a surprise for you," Balinor said mysteriously.

He leaned past Merlin and placed his hand on the smooth stone wall opposite the door.

"_Onlúcan_," he said. His eyes briefly flashed golden-bronze. As they faded back to brown, he gave a firm push on an eye-level stone.

Merlin gaped as a section of the wall two stones wide and six stones high receded from the wall and slid silently to the left, creating a doorway. His eyes flickered from the doorway to Balinor.

"Used to be the crown prince's study," Balinor explained. "Your new room is the antechamber, designed to mimic a broom cupboard to allay suspicion in case the fortress was captured."

Merlin stepped up to the doorway and ran his hand reverently up the stones that bordered the doorway. After a moment, he stepped through into the dark chamber, followed by Balinor.

Balinor said, "_Bryne_," and two torches on each wall roared to life, bathing the large windowless chamber in a striking golden light.

The young warlock's jaw dropped. Even after the hidden doorway, he was completely unprepared for the sight before him.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Balinor said from behind him.

"It's...it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," Merlin whispered.

Floor to ceiling shelves lined the walls between the torch sconces. Colorful leather and linen bound tomes filled every inch of the space. In the torchlight, the gold leaf binding inscriptions gleamed and glowed. Merlin could feel the magic emanating from the hundreds of books, filling the space. The magic thrummed palpably in the still air and resonated with his own magic. In the center of the room stood a large worktable, much like the ones in Gaius' chambers. Instead of plain wooden legs, though, this one stood on the backs of four elaborately carved wooden dragons. In the center of the work surface lay a small parcel, wrapped in a scrap of cloth and tied with a leather cord.

Merlin approached the table and the parcel, then looked back at his father questioningly.

Balinor pulled on an elaborate silk cord hanging from the ceiling just inside the doorway. Merlin watched in awe an elaborate series of wheels, weights, pulleys, and glass cylinders beside the doorway sprang to life. Water drained from the two large cylinders to—_Hmm, where _does_ it go?_—and the pulleys lifted dragon-shaped bronze weights up to the ceiling. The stone door slid silently back into place.

Balinor looked back at Merlin and smiled at his slack-jawed expression.

"Magic locks and unlocks it, but the mechanism itself is purely mechanical. Gaius has, I'm sure, expounded to you the benefits of the scientific process, and he's right—there is a place for magic and a place for science. The wisest understand the advantages of both," he mused, crossing to join Merlin beside the table. He gestured to the small parcel in the middle of the table. "And that, my son, is another gift for you."

"What do you mean, _another_?" Merlin asked, shaking his head to clear the slightly dazed feeling.

"This chamber is the first gift," his father smiled.

"A gift? _All this_?"

Merlin couldn't believe his ears—or his eyes. If he was delighted when Gaius had given him his first-and until today, only—spell book, today he thought he might burst with happiness.

"Yes, all this," Balinor grinned cheekily. "That is, unless you don't want it—"

"No!" Merlin cut him off, then felt his cheeks redden as he realized Balinor had been teasing him. "I do...I do want it," he stammered out.

Merlin ran his hand reverently over the head of one of the dragon table-legs.

"I've never seen so many magical books in one place. I've only ever had one spell book to call my own."

Balinor smiled. "Well, now you have roughly five hundred and one spell books...oh, and be careful of that dragon-leg—it has quite a bite."

Merlin jerked his hand back and warily moved out of range.

"Watch this," Balinor said. "_Forbærne_."

The wooden dragon tilted its head upward and let out a single, steady stream of orange flame, roughly the length of Merlin's forearm.

"Just in case you need extra light when you're reading," Balinor said casually.

"Do they all do that, or just this one?" Merlin asked eagerly.

"All four—just specify by using a singular or plural form of the command."

"Singular. Plural. Got it," Merlin repeated, mesmerized by the magical flames.

"_Forþ fleoge_," Balinor said, extinguishing the flames with a flash of golden eyes. "Now, you should open the second gift," he added, handing the parcel to Merlin.

Merlin quickly untied the leather cord and dropped it on the table. He unwound the scrap of fabric. It fell away, revealing a small wooden carving of a dragon, wings lifted as though preparing to take flight.

"Did...did you make this? The other day?" Merlin asked quietly.

"Yes, a token to remind you of your birthright, my son."

Merlin hugged Balinor, still clutching the tiny wooden dragon.

"Thanks," he said quietly.

Balinor returned the hug briefly, then stepped back.

"Don't you want to see the rest, Merlin, Prince of Æðeldraca?" he asked, a twinkle in his kind eyes.

"There's _more_?" Merlin squeaked. _I don't know how much _more_ I can handle. I might literally be the first person to die of happiness_.

Balinor laughed and headed to the corner near the elaborate pulleys. Merlin carefully placed the tiny dragon carving in the center of the table and turned to follow his father. He realized that, in his excitement over the books, he'd failed to notice the wrought iron spiral staircase descending through the floor in the corner.

They traveled around and around down the narrow stairwell until the light from above had nearly faded. Merlin whispered "_Léoht_" and a small blue orb appeared, floating above their heads to light the way.

"Nearly there now," Balinor announced over his shoulder to Merlin three dozen steps later (Merlin had started keeping count mid-way down, though he wasn't sure why).

They stepped off the bottom step onto smooth stone—but not the paving kind. An even surface of unbroken rock stretched away into the darkness around them.

"Is it a cave?" Merlin asked.

Balinor nodded. Merlin's eyes flashed gold, the color accentuated by the darkness around them, and the blue orb expanded and floated upward until it hung far overhead, illuminating the entire cavern. It stretched some sixty paces across, Merlin estimated, and as many paces high. An stream of water three paces wide tumbled gently down the rocks from a quarter of the way up the far wall of the cavern, cutting a shallow path across the floor and collecting in a pool that glowed in the ethereal blue light.

"A waterfall?" Merlin observed in surprise.

"Same underground river that feeds the spring in the root cellar. There's a passageway behind the waterfall, used as an emergency supply route during sieges by the ancient kings."

_They thought of everything_, Merlin thought as he looked around the large cavern.

"But," Balinor clapped his hands abruptly, "this cavern's main purpose is to be a sheltered magical training ground. You can practice volatile magic down here without risking damage to anything and no one in the fortress will hear you."

_And I don't even have to conjure water when I mess up the fire spells! There's already a supply_, Merlin thought, remembering with an involuntary twitch the time he'd accidentally set Gaius' cot on fire—while his mentor was asleep in it. _Gaius' singed eyebrows were sky-high for a week afterwards…_

Balinor continued, interrupting Merlin's thoughts, "I thought you could use a space where you could learn and practice by yourself until you're ready to tell Arthur everything."

"Arthur!" Merlin exclaimed, suddenly remembering his other role. "He's probably wondering where we are—if he's done training and food's not ready, he'll—"

Balinor cut him off with a laugh, "Then we'd best not keep him waiting."

They hurried back up the stairs. Merlin extinguished the blue orb when they reached the light of the study above. Balinor put out the torches with a word and pulled the silk cord again. The stone door slid open silently and the two men rushed through. Balinor shut it behind them by pressing on a stone to the left of the doorway. No sooner had the door blended seamlessly into the wall again than they heard Arthur's voice echoing up the stairs.

"_Mer_lin! Where _are_ you? I'm starving…"

Merlin rolled his eyes sarcastically and heaved a melodramatic sigh before yanking open the wooden door and leading the way into the corridor. Balinor shut the door behind them as Merlin called back to the prince, "Your belt would say otherwise!"

An indignant huff and the other men's laughter echoed up the stairs.

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed it! Was Balinor's surprise what anyone was expecting? I'd love to hear what you think ;) Also: virtual brownies for anyone who caught the very obscure Doctor Who reference hidden in this chapter...**

**Guest Review Replies:**

_**Nance**_**: So pleased you enjoyed ch 60! Yep, Leon's in a pickle ;) But he's nothing if not honorable, so he'll try to do his best to protect their confidence unless he genuinely believes doing so poses a threat to Camelot's safety. ;)**

_**Kimmiky**_**: I like your prank idea! ;) I'll add it to my list of reader-submitted prank suggestions and see if I can work it in ;) Yeah, you're entirely right about the potatoes (I knew they came from the New World but I didn't know the thing about Sir Walter Raleigh…cool!)—but I allow them in my fic since they appear anachronistically in the BBC series, along with other New World things like tomatoes ;) Thanks for pointing it out, though! I'm grateful to y'all for pointing stuff out so that I can fix unintentional anachronisms!**

_**Quill**_**: Aww, thank you for your sweet review! I'm so pleased you liked the way I adapted the analogy! :D Hehe, I'd thought Gaius picked it up from studying Latin for medical text purposes, but you might be right about Sir Geoffrey… ;)**

_**Bookybookworm**_**: Thanks so much for your enthusiastic review! I'm so pleased you liked the characterizations!**

_**Guest #1**_**: Thanks for reviewing! He's making progress, but you'll have to wait and see if it's enough to sway him to Arthur's side…**

_**Guest #2**_**: Thank you for your encouraging review! So sorry for not posting sooner! I hope you found ch 61 worth the long wait!**


	62. Chapter 62: A Secret Revealed

**A/N: Wow, so many kind reviews! Y'all are fantastic. ;) Thanks for the follows and favs as well!**

**As an aside, did **_**anyone**_** catch the obscure Doctor Who reference yesterday? Ok, then, more specifically: virtual cupcakes to anyone who can tell me which Doctor Who minisode the phrase "Rory! She's **_**having an emotion**_**!" comes from… ;)**

**Disclaimer: I **_**still **_**don't own Merlin and the gorgeous cover art is by AlexandarCho (used with permission). Check out the original on her page over at deviantART! :D**

**Today's chapter: In which a secret untimely revealed spoils a perfectly nice supper…**

**On with the fic! ;)**

Chapter 62: A Secret Revealed

Just as Balinor and his six guests sat down to an early supper, an urgent tapping grabbed Merlin's attention. He jumped up from the table without thinking and opened the window to let Ambrosius in. The falcon looked a bit frazzled but thankfully appeared uninjured this time.

"Why is that bird..._glowing_?" Elyan asked cautiously.

_He's right_, Merlin realized, taking a second look at Ambrosius. A faint gold shimmer surrounded the bird, reminiscent of chain mail in torchlight.

"Protection spell," Balinor said. "He must've had an encounter with the wyverns on his way here-an attack's the only thing that would make such a spell manifest visibly."

"Poor ickle Ambrosius," Merlin cooed, letting the hawk perch on his forearm and scratching the bird's head affectionately. He carried him over to where Balinor sat at the head of the table and allowed him to retrieve the two messages.

Lancelot looked from the bird to Balinor, casting a furtive glance at Merlin on the way.

"Is that how you knew we were coming?" he asked.

Balinor nodded and unrolled the first message. His heavy eyebrows drew together in a worried expression.

_Uh oh_, Merlin thought as he sat down and Ambrosius perched on the back of Balinor's chair. _That can't be good_.

"What is it, Emrys?" Arthur asked.

"Bad news, I'm afraid."

Everyone unconsciously laid down their utensils and looked expectantly at Balinor. He rolled up the message again and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Uther somehow found out you'd come here and plans to lay siege to Níþdraca. My contact says the army marches in less than a week."

He sighed heavily.

"We have at best nine or ten days until the siege force reaches us."

"Let me see!" Arthur exclaimed, snatching up the message from Balinor's loose grip before he could stop him.

_No, no, don't read it! _ Merlin begged silently.

He watched in silent horror as Arthur glanced at the message and looked up abruptly in shock.

_Please don't let there be anything incriminating in it…_

"_Morgana_? Morgana is your contact?"

_Oh. No. _

Merlin's fear for his own secret vanished, replaced by a choking dread for Morgana's.

_No, this can't be happening._

Balinor didn't reply.

"Emrys," Arthur said, his tone icy, "I want the truth. Now."

Merlin blurted out, "Arthur-"

"Not now, _Mer_lin-"

"No, Arthur, this is important!"

Merlin stared fixedly at Arthur until Arthur reluctantly met his gaze.

"What is it, _Mer_lin?" he asked with an irritated sigh.

"Morgana is your friend. She's like your sister," Merlin willed his voice to remain steady. "Whatever you do, don't let whatever Emrys says next change your mind about that."

Arthur held his gaze for a moment longer. Merlin could see the confusion in his friend's eyes. At last, Arthur broke eye contact and stared Balinor down once more.

"Just. Tell. Me," he said through gritted teeth.

_Tell him, but don't say anything about Gwen or Gaius, please_, Merlin projected to his father. He caught Gwaine and Lancelot watching him, but ignored them for the moment.

"Arthur," Balinor began slowly. "Morgana has a...gift. A gift she was born with."

He paused.

"Go on," Arthur's words bit the air like his steel blade, slicing the tension that hung thick around them.

_Start with the nightmares_, Merlin suggested.

"You are aware that Morgana suffers from nightmares?"

It was more a statement than a question.

"Yes…" Arthur's face was impassive.

"They are visions. Of the future."

Arthur scoffed.

"No, listen-" Balinor ordered firmly.

Arthur lapsed into sullen silence again.

"She cannot control them-as yet-and certainly never asked for them, but still they are a part of her. She is a Seer."

Merlin saw Arthur flinch at the dreaded word.

_Try the story about the Sidhe_, Merlin suggested telepathically.

"Remember Sophia?" Balinor asked, raising one eyebrow suggestively.

"Yes," Arthur muttered defensively, clearly unsure where Balinor was heading with this line of reasoning.

"Morgana's visions saved your life. Sophia was a Sidhe-a magical fairy-creature intent on sacrificing your soul to gain passage back to Avalon," Balinor explained.

"Avalon's real?" Percival interjected excitedly.

Merlin successfully stifled a snort. Balinor pretended not to notice and continued.

"Yes, Avalon is real, and Arthur was nearly sent there before his time. Morgana had a vision of his impending murder, alerted me to the danger-" Balinor looked pointed at Arthur, "And I saved your life. So before you pass judgment on your friend, remember that you owe her your life."

Arthur hummed noncommittally.

"So Morgana told you we were coming?" Lancelot asked, obviously trying to steer the conversation along into safer, less controversial waters.

"Yes," Balinor replied.

He held up a hand and smoothly said, "_Strangaþ_," causing the note to fly from Arthur's grasp back into Balinor's waiting hand. He unrolled it and smoothed it on the table.

"Now that we've established who's been looking out for your wellbeing in Camelot, would you allow me to explain the contents of her message to everyone at once?"

Merlin could tell it was not a request. Arthur apparently realized that as well, because he sat back in his chair, folded his arms, and nodded stiffly.

"Good," Balinor said simply. "Now, it's a bit more complicated than just a siege force. Uther himself will be leading it."

Lancelot interjected incredulously, "He's leaving Camelot unguarded?"

"No," Balinor replied. "He's leaving a reasonable garrison strength behind…and leaving Morgana in charge."

Merlin felt his jaw drop open. Before he could stop himself, he blurted, "Sorry, what?"

"He's named Morgana as Regent."

"But can he do that? She's not of royal blood…" Elyan observed to no one in particular.

"Ha!" Gwaine exclaimed, "Breaking the precious rules of nobility! Serves Uther right for booting Princess here out of the castle-"

"No," Balinor cut him off, "He can and has named her Princess Regent. Evidently Morgana is Arthur's half sister."

Merlin saw Arthur's jaw fall open, mirroring his own, then snap shut again. The prince pushed back his chair suddenly and stood, palms flat on the table, staring down at the untouched plate of food in front of him.

"Say that again. Slowly," he ordered.

"Uther had publicly claimed that Morgana is his daughter-your half sister-and named her Regent during his impending absence."

_Poor Morgana_, Merlin realized suddenly. _She was already angry with Uther...I can't imagine how she's dealing with this._

Balinor unwittingly answered Merlin's question.

"Morgana is understandably surprised and distressed at this turn of events," he explained gently, "But she has accepted the position, not for her own gain, but out of loyalty to you. She wishes to keep Camelot safe until you can return to reclaim your title."

"Morgana has..._magic_," Arthur spat out the offensive word, "So why should she be loyal to me?"

"Because you're her friend and brother!" Merlin blurted, unable to contain his thoughts any longer. "Don't you understand? The Morgana you know hasn't changed-you just know the whole truth about her now!"

Merlin realized with a start that he was trembling with emotion. His fists were balled and he'd pushed back his chair and stood so he was eye to eye with his prince.

Arthur stared at him, wide-eyed. He uttered two simple words that cut Merlin deep with their accusatory edge.

"You knew."

Merlin didn't back down, but he did have the grace to bow his head deferentially and stare at the tabletop.

"Yes...I knew."

"Merlin. My chambers. Now."

Arthur's tone left no room for argument. He swept from the room without another word, leaving Merlin no choice but to follow him. Merlin obeyed with a heavy heart and a single backward glance at Balinor as the rest resigned themselves to pick awkwardly at their supper in silence.

**A/N: The plot thickens! Did anyone think Arthur was going to find out about Merlin in this chapter? ;)**

**Guest review replies:**

_**Quill**_**: Thanks for reviewing ch 61! Haha, don't worry, there will be future chances to see Balinor's reaction to that… ;)**

_**Requim17**_**: Thanks so much for reading and reviewing this fic! :D Thank you for your kind compliments about the canon-quality of this fic. I am trying super-hard to keep everyone in character so that it feels like this really could have been the way things happened if just that one episode had been different and set off one massive chain reaction ;) I'm glad you like the pacing and the way things are building toward a climax! I'm also pleased you enjoyed the father/son bonding in ch 61…but what makes you so sure Balinor's not going to survive this fic?**


	63. Chapter 63: The Heart of the Matter

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, favs, and follows! There are now over 400 of y'all following this humble fic…y'all are so encouraging to me!**

**Disclaimer: Guess what? I don't own **_**Merlin**_**. :( Guess what else I don't own? The lovely cover art by the extremely talented AlexandarCho over on deviantART (used with permission). :)**

**On with the fic!**

Chapter 63: The Heart of the Matter

The sound of a chamber door shutting firmly two floors up had barely faded into silence before Gwaine made his move. He abruptly stood, grabbed two thick hunks of Balinor's fresh-baked bread, and sandwiched a slab of meat between them. With his other hand, he picked up a shiny apple and tossed it in the air casually.

"So, who's coming with me?"

The rest stared blankly back at him.

He caught the apple and proceeded to shine it on his shirt sleeve as he impatiently clarified, "To make sure Princess doesn't do something stupid."

Lancelot slowly got to his feet as well. Gwaine just rolled his eyes when he saw that Percival and Elyan continued to stare blankly at him. Balinor leaned back in his chair, a bemused expression creeping onto his face.

"Is that-" Percival asked slowly, "-likely?"

"Mmhmm," Gwaine nodded through a mouthful of apple, already heading toward the door.

Lancelot nodded politely to Balinor before hurrying after the shaggy-haired man.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Elyan addressed Balinor after the other two men had started up the stairs, "So...are we supposed to, I don't know, intervene or something?"

Balinor pursed his lips for a moment, then shook his head.

"No, I don't think so. Arthur and Merlin need to sort this privately."

He rolled up both messages and stuffed them into a slit pocket in his long open-front coat. Picking up his utensils again, he added, "I think we'd do best to eat supper before the meat gets cold."

Percival and Elyan exchanged glances.

_Well, _Elyan decided with a shrug, _If he's not worried, I guess I won't be either._

They both followed Balinor's lead and dug into the plentiful meal.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Gwaine and Lancelot silently took up positions just outside Arthur's door, ears cautiously pressed against the sturdy wood. Lancelot strained to hear what was happening inside, muscles tensed and ready to intervene at the first sign of Merlin's distress.

He didn't have to try so hard; both he and Gwaine jerked their heads away from the door as the shouting started.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Merlin followed Arthur into his chambers and stood quietly as Arthur shut the door firmly behind them.

Arthur turned from the door and strode to the center of the room, just a few feet from Merlin, his eyes locked on his servant's. For several moments, neither moved.

_Say something, you idiot!_ Arthur shouted in his head.

But Merlin stayed silent, apparently waiting for his prince to speak first.

_Well, that's a first_, Arthur thought sarcastically.

At last Merlin looked away, staring down and left toward the fireplace. Arthur broke the silence.

"How long?"

Merlin's eyes flickered back to his, confusion evident.

_And something else_, Arthur realized. _Is that...fear?_

He shrugged away the uncomfortable thought and repeated his question.

"How long have you known about Morgana?"

Merlin's expressive eyes closed briefly.

"Since the fire," he replied quietly.

"What fire?" Arthur demanded impatiently.

"The fire in Morgana's chambers."

_But...that was _months_ ago_.

Arthur stood in rigid silence, processing Merlin's admission.

_Why would he keep that from me? I...I need more facts_.

"How did you find out?"

The answer caught him off guard.

"She told me," Merlin said simply, straightening his shoulders and meeting Arthur's gaze once more.

That tiny display of resolve pushed Arthur over the edge.

"And _you_ should have told _me_!" he shouted.

Merlin flinched but did not back down.

"But I couldn't."

"For the love of Camelot, why not?" Arthur yelled.

"Don't you understand why?" his servant replied softly, a quiet strength undergirding the not-so-simple question.

_No_, Arthur thought bitterly. _I trusted you_.

"Enlighten me," he said aloud, biting sarcasm evident in his tone.

Merlin looked away and rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably.

"She was...scared-"

Arthur scoffed.

"Morgana's not scared of anything."

"-She was terrified," Merlin insisted firmly. "She came looking for Gaius one night. He wasn't there, but I was."

"So what, a secret sorceress just confesses to an idiot servant about her magical plans to overthrow Camelot?"

Merlin's eyes suddenly blazed with anger.

"No! She begged for help. She thought it might be magic, but she wasn't sure. She didn't understand what was happening to her."

"And I still don't understand why you didn't tell me all of this."

Arthur folded his arms, losing patience rapidly in the face of Merlin's defiance. _The nerve of the idiot..._

"Because she trusted me! And she had no one else to turn to! Look at you-"

Merlin waved his hands at Arthur, "You're doing exactly what she was afraid of!"

"What, exactly?" Arthur spat.

Now Merlin was the one shouting.

"Rejecting her without waiting for an explanation, just like your father would!"

Arthur felt Merlin's words like a punch in the gut. A stunned silence hung between them.

'_Your father_…' Arthur repeated Merlin's words to himself.

_Because that's what all of this comes down to_.

It wasn't really about the magic at all. Arthur knew perfectly well that he could change his mind about things he used to think-_after all, I've learned to respect Merlin and Guinevere as friends, not just as faceless servants, haven't I? _That wasn't the problem. The problem was that accepting magic, accepting that his _sister_ was terrified to tell him something so important, meant admitting that his world was all wrong. Because, if he was honest with himself, his world revolved around his father.

_My father's word is law, literally and figuratively_, he thought as the silence stretched out.

If his father was fundamentally wrong about magic-if his father had devoted decades of his reign to an inherently flawed ideal and slaughtered countless people who had, in fact, committed no true crime-then everything else he'd instilled in Arthur was now standing on shaky ground as well. Accepting magic meant accepting that his father was a tyrant. It meant admitting that he, Arthur-who lived so carefully by the Knights' Code-was a hypocrite who had committed cold-blooded murder for his king. And after the events of the past two weeks, being on the receiving end of the injustice and rejection, Arthur wasn't sure how much more upheaval his paradigm could handle before it came crashing down around him.

_Which is why I need Merlin more than ever_.

His still-empty stomach turned over violently.

_And why I feel so betrayed_.

"I need…" Arthur began, breaking the silence at last. "I need to be able to trust you."

Merlin looked at him in confusion.

_Right, I did just yell at him…_

"I need," he tried again, taking a deep breath to steady himself, "To know I can trust you-that you're on my side-if I'm to figure out what to do after everything that's happened. And I can't if you're keeping secrets from me."

Merlin's eyes widened for just a moment. Arthur wondered briefly if he'd imagined it because immediately Merlin's expression neutralized as he said with conviction, "You can trust me. I promise."

"No more secrets?"

Merlin swallowed thickly, then nodded.

"No more secrets."

Arthur smiled and held out his arm to clasp Merlin's like he did with his closest knights. Merlin took a step forward to meet his grasp-and promptly tripped over his own feet. He fell forward, slamming into Arthur and sending them both sprawling heavily on the stone floor with a crash. Arthur's skull connected roughly with a chair leg on the way down.

"Sorry," Merlin muttered from somewhere amid the jumble of limbs.

The chamber door burst open and Gwaine rushed in, followed by Lancelot. Arthur looked up at them in brief confusion.

_Ow, my head_, he thought, propping himself up on an elbow as he tried to figure out what they were doing there. Suddenly it clicked.

"_Mer_lin is fine! Get out!"

The two would-be rescuers looked hesitantly at the tangle of prince and manservant on the floor.

Merlin sat up slowly, looking a bit dazed as well, and nodded briefly at Gwaine.

"Now!" Arthur added for good measure.

Gwaine and Lancelot made a hasty exit, letting the door slam behind them. The sharp sound made both men, still seated on the floor, flinch briefly. Then, somehow, as they looked at each other sprawled awkwardly on the floor like that, they burst out laughing.

**A/N: And with a complicated promise, the plot thickens! Did that live up to everyone's cliff-hanger expectations? Hope y'all enjoyed the dab of Arthur's internal debate/realizations (intentionally somewhat in the vein of the theme of Arthur Miller's **_**All My Sons**_**…great play, btw…if you haven't read it, I highly recommend it).**

**Guest review replies:**

_**Quill**_**: Thanks for reviewing ch 62! I'm glad you liked the way Merlin reacted in that scene ;) The others made a comment or two, but honestly they were just trying to figure out what was going on and (in particular Elyan/Percival) what the interpersonal dynamic was that was driving the conversation/fight. Hope you liked ch 63! :)**

_**Bookybookworm**_**: Thanks for reviewing! I hope ch 63 satisfactorily answered some of your questions. :) Yes, I have watched the latest DW episodes…and I'm really excited about this coming weekend's episode. The trailer/preview looks HILARIOUS. ;) I'd love to have convos about them if you'd like…is it possible for you to PM for convos just in case there are any spoilers in our convo? I'd had for someone to be reading reviews or my guest review replies and stumble across a DW plot twist they didn't know about yet… :/ **

_**Nance**_**: Thanks for reviewing ch 61 & 62! :) I'm so pleased you liked the layered aspect of ch 61. Credit for the cool mechanical door thing goes to my hubby, actually! I was a bit stumped on what sort of doorway to create (all I could think of was the entrance to Diagon Alley in HP and didn't want to plagiarize that…), so I asked him for secret doorway suggestions. Without missing a beat he told me to use something with water, weights, and pulleys with a massive cave underneath. Turns out he was just joking, but I liked it so much I used it all, haha ;) I'm glad you liked the father-son happy fluff and that the chapter felt bookended/balanced. :) Ch 62: True, Arthur keeps missing normal meals, doesn't he? ;) Thanks for the kind compliments about including everyone and the Morgana!reveal. I'm going to try to work in more sub-plots/adventures for Ambrosius in the next couple of chapters! :D**

_**Guest #1**_**: So pleased you enjoyed ch 62! I like your suggestion…I'll do my best to work that in somewhere along the way :) I love your analogy, btw!**

_**Guest #2**_**: Thanks so much for leaving a review! :) You're exactly right about the Doctor Who reference—it was that minisode. The place I'd referenced it was when Merlin realized Arthur was "having an emotion" and was about to take it out on Lancelot in training. :) I hope you liked how Arthur and Merlin's conversation turned out! (And your English is just fine, don't worry!)**

_**C**_**: Thanks so much for reviewing! I hope you liked ch 63 :)**


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